A Ring for a Scarf
by celticvampriss
Summary: "Jean glanced behind him, red fabric drifting away from Sasha's open fingers. It fluttered like a leaf, floating until the wind caught it and blew it away, toward the break in the trees up ahead." It all started when Mikasa lost her scarf. Jeankasa. Rated for swearing (f*bombs.) Action heavy in the beginning. (Slightly AU)
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This has been in my head for a while. I'm sorry this first chapter is so long and yet not very shippy, but I'm trying to develop this as close to how the show progresses as possible. There should be one, maybe two more chapters of this. I'm sorry of any inaccuracies. I've watched the anime, but that's about it. Any spelling from names I just looked up and used whatever seemed the most popular. (No one can seem to say definitively which name spellings are correct?) I do hope you like it, since this is the first time I've written anything this action heavy.  
**

A RING FOR A SCARF  
one

Shit, this sucked. Every single time. It never got easier. But to Jean, the moment this got easy he knew he was truly lost. He wiped the spray from his cheeks. He didn't know what was his or what was titan, all the blood felt the same now. The steaming had stopped and it'd all congealed in brownish splatters over his jacket and pants. He wasn't a clean freak like Captain, but this was fucking gross.

And it was far from over. The branch shook under his boots, with all the commotion around him he'd barely had a second to clean out his eyes before he was moving again. Leaping and twirling on wires, the wind blowing through his hair and stinging his eyes. He saw Connie tagging one, a five meter titan, his tether hooked in the back of its neck, but another was about to swipe him from the air like a fly.

Jean gritted his teeth as he switched directions, body springing around and jarring his neck. He swung up and sliced clean through three of five fingers before they could catch onto his squad mate. Connie soared free of obstruction and cut a gash into his titan's neck. Problem was, it wasn't far enough in. The near miss had distracted him and made him hesitate. Jean met him on another high branch, two titans grasping for them. The one still had no fingers and was trailing steam the other was already healing its neck.

"Damn it. I almost got it." Connie's fists shook, but there wasn't time to lament mistakes. If you survived them, you moved on. Because there were always more to fight.

Jean was jumping after the two below him when a blur of their corps uniform and black hair passed in front of him. He swung into the trunk of the tree that had been his perch, boots ripping up bark as he slid down and got his bearings. Mikasa twirled, back flipped out of the titan's reach and then swiped down in one move, slicing the titan's neck cleanly. The second one was eyeing her, but Jean was already moving. He landed on its outstretched arm and ran, jumping to spear its eyes while Connie came up from behind and finished it.

His pride was stinging, but he was too in awe for it to hurt. The way she moved was a marvel and he swung about after landing on a high branch to try and find her, but she was already gone. His shoulders were falling up and down as he caught his breath, chasing after her toward the rest of their group. Mikasa was agile, but Jean could manipulate his gear just as effortlessly. He'd caught up to her, but trailed behind. Words rose to his mind, several different options that he never got the nerve to say before she was swinging sharply in front of him to avoid a tree.

Jean pulled back, trying to avoid a collision and caught her attention. Mikasa's eyes were stoic as they fell over him, her face forward. He froze for a second and his side caught a thin branch as he swung, it shattered against his weight and spun him in a clear circle. Connie was cackling behind him as Jean's back smacked into a tree trunk. His teeth braced for the sting that shuddered down his spine and he fell for a few seconds before he could move to activate his tether. He was panting now, his cheeks burning worse than the damage to his side.

"You 're supposed to go around the branches." Connie said, stopping to make sure he was good to continue.

Jean's eyes were dark as he glared upward, his cheeks still burning. She had to have seen that. "Eat shit, Springer." He propelled forward again, nose flaring in suppressed annoyance. He was seething at his own stupidity and then that tiny voice in the back of his mind rose up with a very casual _Eren wouldn't have tripped_.

He was seeing red by the time he caught up to the main squad. There were at least three more titans and they were pawing at the trees to get to the soldiers. They were just a small unit, Captain Levi had taken Jaeger along with a few others on a different route with the expectation that they all converge on the other side of the woods. They had flares for emergencies, but so far as Jean knew, they hadn't lost anyone yet.

Jean reigned in his temper. He shut his eyes, his fingers digging into the bark he was using for support. If he fought while so angry, he'd make a dumb mistake and then he'd be facing a lot worse than a bruised side and embarrassment. When he was calmer he surveyed the scene, trying to take in everyone's position and determine their plans for attack. They were pretty divided, striking in haphazard formations. It had been a mistake to pair so many with team work issues in one group, but splitting up had been a last minute plan and they'd been separated where they had stood.

Sasha was nearest his position and she jumped toward the titans, only to be chased back up into the trees. Mikasa swung into view again, making his cheeks flare up. It was pathetic how easily she could affect everything about him. His heart rate. His breathing. His blood. He wanted to feel ashamed, but he respected her too much to let himself be bothered. She was worth the admiration.

"Oh shit." The tree that had held Jean shook violently, making him slip and cling to the trunk to keep from falling. A titan had rammed it, stepping back and throwing its shoulder into the tree. Jean hopped to another branch, then leapt from the tree entirely to swing around to the titan's back. He didn't get far; the titan turned too fast and had struck out at him, forcing him to change direction.

"No. I am not letting another of you bastards get past me." Jean kicked off again, leaping high and twisting in the air to fall just over the titan's head and then down onto its back. He hooked his tether into its neck and slashed down fast and hard. Steam flew up into his face as he pushed backward with his feet, flipping backward before tethering a tree and righting himself. The titan fell hard onto the ground, shaking the earth, but he didn't cheer. There was no celebrating a single kill. Not when people like Mikasa were on their fourth.

Speaking of, she was rocketing past him, moving with urgency. His eyes followed her for a second before moving to where she had been. Four more titans had converged on their spot. The rest of the group was following her, propelling fast as the titans crashed around trees to follow. Someone must have sounded a retreat, but Jean hadn't heard it. He took off after the group, leaping through branches with finesse this time.

He was lagging behind; sparing a glance to check the progress of the titan's every few seconds. If he was calculating this right, they'd be free of the woods in another couple miles. Hopefully, there'd be some reinforcements waiting. Jean had closed the gap between him and the squad when they came to a sudden halt. More titans were coming at them from the front.

"They're surrounding us." Sasha screamed, her eyes wide. Jean landed next to her. Her hands shook, but she tried to swallow her fear. "W-what do we do now?"

"We keep moving." Jean said. Mikasa wasn't far ahead, all of them stopping close enough to communicate.

"We move separately." She was looking at Jean when she spoke, eyes steady as a breeze stirred the hair around her cheeks. "We're harder to follow if we take separate paths."

Jean nodded, appreciating that she seemed to be directing this at him, as if for confirmation. It felt like…well, he didn't really have time for feelings right then. "We should move in pairs. Spread out and then all converge in on one point a few miles down."

Mikasa nodded, accepting his ideas. Jean's chest swelled, his confidence soaring. Mikasa tugged on the sleeve of the person nearest her, the two of them leaving together. Everyone seemed to assume the pair was whoever was closest. Jean looked sideways.

"Guess it's you and me." She said shyly, her eyes still on the titans getting closer.

Jean sighed. "You ready, Braus?"

She straightened, drawing her hands up to her chest, swords sticking straight up into the air. "Y-yep."

"You'll be fine." Jean said, meeting her eyes. "We're not fighting just flying. Stick close and keep your eyes on me. If something happens, scream."

"Right." She nodded. They jumped from their branch, flying toward an unused path. The titans had already scattered, confused on which team to follow. Jean kept Sasha in his sights, moving in sync with her. It was easy to gain a rhythm and they were both comfortable enough using their gear. Sasha seemed to lose her worry in the thrill of maneuvering. Her smile was returning.

"We're almost through." He called to her. He'd been trying to keep track of how far into the woods they'd gone and he knew they had to be reaching the far side soon. He'd just spotted a pair getting close to their position from the left when he heard Sasha scream behind him.

Pulling up short, Jean watched Sasha being pulled from the air, her leg caught in the hand of a titan. Sasha slashed out with her swords, slicing through its fingers and freeing her foot. But she was too close to the ground and couldn't get her tether out in time. She crashed into the ground, bouncing on her back and eyes pinching shut.

Jean was already flying in the titan's line of sight. Swinging his sword sideways over its face, effectively capturing its attention. He tried to see if she was moving, but he now had the titan's full attention and it was taking all his concentration to dodge it. He drove it away from Sasha, eyes catching the flash of steel as the group that had distracted him earlier was drawn to Sasha's cry.

Jean kept swinging free of the titan's arms, but it was fast. He hardly had time to adjust before the thing was grabbing for him again. In a quick move, Jean got himself on the right side of a tree and quickly propelled sideways, drawing himself out of its direct path. The titan stopped short, searching for him.

Jean was already arcinging back around, hoping to end it before it brought more of them. Sweat building on his forehead, fists gripping tight over the hilt of his swords, he managed to get his tether line in position. He held his swords ready, preparing to strike down on its neck, but he never got the chance.

A palm swung from behind him, batting him sideways. This time, Jean was snapped against the tree, his body bending painfully before he was rolling down and down, hitting the floor on his shoulder.

"Jean." Sasha's voice was a distant cry to his ringing ears. His eyes were seeing double, the edges of his sight black. He knew it was her, because he saw her face in his head at the sound of her voice, but he was trying to pick himself up without the world spinning out from under him. The wind had been knocked from his lungs and he wheezed in breath.

"Get up. Get up. Get up." She was right above him, her boots hitting the ground in front of him. "Are you hurt?"

"I'll manage." He coughed, standing. Sasha tucked her arms around him and lifted him from the ground and toward the canopy. With his added weight, she couldn't get them to clear the branch cleanly and they crashed into it, both of them grabbing onto it to keep from falling back to the ground. They scrambled to climb up, the bark digging under their fingernails. They'd just managed to scramble to safety when another pair of boots landed next to them.

"Are you hurt?" Mikasa helped Jean stand, taking him by the arm and easing him upright. He caught his breath, avoiding her eyes.

"Fine." His side was killing him, his head was aching, but he didn't want to let on that he was in any way unable to do his job. Sasha was looking below, the three of them surrounded by the two titans.

"Where's your partner?" Jean asked, worrying suddenly that Mikasa was alone. She kept her eyes on the titan, but her profile made him lose breath all over again.

"I sent him ahead to the others. I came to help Sasha and then to help you."

When his jaw finally closed, he felt relief. They'd gone the whole mission without any deaths so far. He was counting on them all making it to rendezvous.

"Are you okay to go?" Still, she kept her eyes on the titans, but the tone of her voice suggested that she was asking out of necessity, rather than actual concern. She cared that he lived or died but…it was the same for all of them. He wasn't special. Not to her. Not like…

"Yeah. I'm good." He rotated his shoulder, feeling and hearing it crack at the motion. "Are we taking these down or making a run for it?"

Mikasa looked at them finally. "We should run. Sasha's gear is banged up and you're almost out of blades." She motioned to where gas was leaking quietly from the tank on Sasha's right.

"Shit." Jean bent down, trying to tighten the canister down, but the leak wasn't at the seal.

"It'll last, right?" Sasha asked, chewing her lip.

Jean punched at the tree, frustrated. "I don't know. Not long. We have to get you moving though."

"You stay in front of us. If you think you're about to run out, land." Mikasa said.

"Okay." Sasha waited for their signal and then took off to the right, hopping clean over the titans' heads. Jean and Mikasa sprang after her. With Sasha, moving through the trees had been fluid, easy. But with Mikasa at his side, helping him to keep Sasha in sight, it was like dancing. They could move gracefully around each other, looping and spinning. It was elegant. Clean. They parried the others actions with precision and perfect timing.

"She's almost out of gas." Jean said as he passed in ear shot of Mikasa. "She should land. Braus! Braus—"

Sasha kept going, the last of her gas spraying uselessly into the air. "Mikasa." Jean called as Mikasa's arc took her close to Sasha's position. Mikasa changed course in a second, sweeping under Sasha as the gas ran empty and Sasha's tether misfired, leaving her hanging in space.

Mikasa caught Sasha, but the force of it swung them both wide and hanging in open air from Mikasa's tether. Jean pulled up beside them.

"I can carry her." He said, watching them spin on Mikasa's line. "We're almost out of here, it's not far." He reached out and Sasha caught his hand, pulling her and Mikasa toward the tree. They were trying to untangle themselves from the mess of whose limbs were whose when the ground began to shake.

"Hurry up!" Jean's hand was pinched under Sasha's boot and he cringed.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Sasha was trying to get her bearings, but unless they let her drop to the ground, they had to maneuver while hanging. The earth was trembling, each shudder urging them, screaming their limited time.

In her panic, Sasha fingers closed on the scarf around Mikasa's neck. Her eyes were huge, pupils dilated as she tried to climb onto Jean's back. But it was too late, the ground broke beneath them, one tremor too many causing all three of them to fall back into open space, only Jean and Mikasa's tether to keep them in the air.

The titan had reached them and Sasha's scream was deafening in Jean's ear. He could feel Mikasa ripping herself free. After kicking at him, and wiggling her arms, she broke from their tangled ball and propelled herself into the titan's path. In the scramble, the scarf had been completely torn from Mikasa's neck; it lingered in Sasha's hands as Jean got them moving again. He didn't bother with correcting their positions, just worried about getting them out of the titan's path.

"Oh…" Sasha's voice was small this time, barely heard even with her face near his ear. Jean glanced behind him, red fabric drifting away from Sasha's open fingers. It fluttered like a leaf, drifting until the wind caught it and blew it away, toward the break in the trees up ahead. Jean pulled Sasha over his shoulder, bending her in half, and tried to keep moving. Mikasa would buy them time, he hoped she'd be fine on her own. He had to get Sasha to the group. They could meet up with the horses and she could ride on her own. Right now, he was having trouble maintaining any real height. There was too much weight.

"Jean." Sasha was pointing as Mikasa flew past, the titan hard on her heels. "She…she doesn't look okay."

His teeth were straining in his jaw. This was turning to hell real fast. He couldn't go after Mikasa with Sasha on his shoulder. As soon as he'd seen that scarf floating away he knew they'd run into trouble. But he wasn't strong enough to help everyone. He couldn't save all of them. He couldn't do it…

"Let me go." Sasha sounded quiet, but determined.

"Don't be an idiot. You can't outrun it." He said. He was trying to keep his eyes on Mikasa, her body flying recklessly through the trees and nothing to suggest she was trying to avoid the titan trying to grab her.

"I don't have to. I just have to get outside the trees, right? They're all waiting out there. Let me run. The titan's after Mikasa. You should help her." Jean stopped on a low branch, well within titan reach.

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah. I…" She pushed herself down, landing on her feet. "I can do it. I'm a fast sprinter."

Jean watched the titan's hand catch Mikasa by the leg, jarring her out of her arc and sending her spinning. She just managed to get out of reach and correct herself.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling torn. This felt like a betrayal to Sasha. She needed him. She was defenseless. Mikasa was capable of fighting, his priority should be Sasha.

"I'm going." She said, giving him a faint smile. "I'll just imagine there's food waiting for me." Before he could protest she hopped down, rolling into the fall and then taking off at a sprint. The end of the woods wasn't far off and…if there was any luck at all left there would be a full squad waiting for her. He didn't have time to rethink, he was propelling after Mikasa.

She swung away from Jean's hand, moving out of reach. His boots hit hard on a tree, but he steeled himself before calling out to her, his voice loud and desperate. "Mikasa! You have to leave it."

Her eyes were like daggers, turning on him fiercely. She didn't respond, just kept flying around the tree tops, searching. Oblivious to the titan swatting at her. Jean cursed, jumping after her. Her movements were erratic, but timing it, he was able to come up under her, catching her by the waist and moving them high into the canopy.

Mikasa threw his arms off her once their feet hit the branch. She was about to jump when he threw his arms around her.

"You're going to get yourself killed."

"You don't understand." She seethed, her eyes were wide and darting around. Her fingers traced the space around her neck, feather touches like she couldn't fathom that there was nothing there.

"Yes I do." She broke free again, this time cracking him over the head with her elbow. Jean's head rattled, but he kept catching her. He was trying to be gentle, but she was struggling so fiercely. "I get it. You don't feel safe without it. You need it."

"I…" She hesitated, her thrashing growing calmer.

"In all the years I've known you, I've never seen you without it." Jean continued. His grip was still firm. "It's…obviously special to you."

"Very." She said sharply, but she stilled.

"I know." He let out a breath, the tree they were in shaking slightly as the titan tried to grab them. "But it's not worth your life. Nothing is worth your life."

"But Eren…"

Jean's mouth fell open. He wasn't sure if his heart could sink any lower than it had just then. The name was crushing, devastating just then. Because he realized why she loved that damn scarf so much. And it killed him. Jean shook the start of tears, because he was not going to cry right now.

"You think Eren wants you risking your life right now? Mikasa, he'd say the same thing I am." He felt hollow. The will was slipping from him, the only reason he held on was because he could see how hurt she was. The emptiness in her eyes…she must have felt just like he did. He couldn't fail her now. He could keep his heart from falling to pieces, if only because it was best for her.

She was still frozen in his arms, allowing him to hold her or not realizing that he still was. Jean let his grip loosen again, feeling her tense but she didn't move. "Look…"

He was at a loss. She looked so broken. What did he say? What could he say? The war raged on beneath their feet but right then there was nothing outside of the space they shared. Jean stabbed his sword into the tree bark, letting it stand on its own and freeing his hands fully. Somehow in restraining her, he hadn't cut either of them.

Jean reached down over his gear, eyes searching for a familiar circle of metal. A thin wire was looped over one of the ends, its purpose only useful for storage. He broke it free, eyes on his own hands since he couldn't meet hers. He tugged on the string of iron, twirling it over the tip of his finger. He looped it several times, twisting the coil together to make a twine. Still not looking up, he grabbed her hand suddenly. He heard her gasp, but he ignored it.

"It's not the same thing. I just…" His fingers shook as he held out the ring of frayed metal and slipped it onto her index finger. "I can't have you giving up." He held her hand, her fingers so thin and small, it was amazing how deftly she could use them for killing. "I'm not Eren. And…and I know it's not the same." His eyes were locked on his hands, both of them holding her, thumbs squeezing into her palm as he tried to will her into believing in him. "But this is from me to you. Let it…just let it remind you that I'm here with you. Together we can make it out of here. Cause we have to keep fighting, Mikasa—"

Her hand slipped from his, cutting him off. He looked to see if he had done something wrong, he'd been so caught up in what he was saying, it took him a second to remember where they were. Mikasa's eyes were even, her face calm. Whatever he said must have worked. It was oddly thrilling. That something he said could help her. He didn't care what it was or how, just knowing he'd found the right words was enough.

"Are you ready?"

Jean nodded, pulling out his sword and getting ready to jump. He saw the ring still on her finger and he grinned. In his heart, he knew there would come a time, maybe that day or maybe in two, when she would remove it. He'd look at her hand and there'd be nothing there. It was just a stupid piece of metal. It was probably uncomfortable to wear. And he knew that it would never mean as much because it had come from him. But until he looked at her hand to find it gone, he would continue to be elated. It was setting himself up for pain, because when he did find her finger bare…it'd shatter him. But until then…until then…he could be fucking happy, damn it.

* * *

**A/N: There is more to come and I promise that it will end with more Jean/Mikasa romantic type interactions. My hope is that this story seemed believable, in character, and that the end of this chapter was sweet on Jean's part. I just like the idea of this, I don't know why. Again, one or two more chapters. Hope you enjoyed it. Thanks for reading. ^_^**


	2. Chapter 2

two

The sun was setting as Jean broke through the tree line. Mikasa had kept pace with him, if a bit lazy in some of her actions, distracted. He could notice a clear difference from before, when they had soared side-by-side as if reading the others thoughts. Least, that was how he thought it went.

Squinting away the sun, Jean looked below for their group. The rest of the squad wasn't too far off, but they were already moving away. Titans were still after them. Jean hit the ground, no longer able to use his gear now that they were in the open. He started running. Mikasa was a pace behind but he could hear the light thudding sound of her boots on the dirt.

The main of their group was gaining more ground, growing smaller over a small rise of grass. The hell? The titans must have been closer than he thought if they weren't willing to wait. He was beginning to feel the exertion in his lungs, his muscles were burning. They had already been through a lot that day and it was starting to take its toll. He wasn't a machine. He needed a drink more than anything right then. In fact, he was pretty sure he had sweated all the water from his body.

Jean was reflecting on how much he loved horses. How they ran so he didn't have to. Carried his stuff. He didn't know which he wanted more, water or a horse. He even thought he could hear hoof beats in the distance. They must have been closer than he thought if he could hear the main force of the squad from their position. His heart soared. Maybe it was possible to catch up on foot…

"Hey!" The human voice brought him skidding to a halt. He kicked up dirt and grass as he tried to stop. When he turned to look behind him, the woods now in the distance, he recognized some members of his own squad with some extra horses. Mikasa was already on hers, looking at the ground. Jean tired not to worry about it, but it made no difference. His eyes were finding her more than usual as he attempted to assure himself that she was fine. She looked like herself, maybe. But there was sadness now. It was clear in the depths of her eyes, the set of her lips, her posture.

Connie, Sasha, and two newer soldiers only a few months out of training had waited. Amber Laclind was a spirited girl with short wisps of hair that fell over one eye. She held the reins to one of the extra horses, tossing them down to Jean.

"Three teams didn't make it back." Her soft brown eyes were sad as she spoke, but her voice was casual. It's not the first time she'd had to report friends and comrades missing. The leather in Jean's hands groaned as his fingers twisted. They'd split into seven pairs back in the woods. Fourteen people. Six of them were unaccounted for, probably dead. Six. He threw his leg over the saddle, his side flaring with pain, but he bit it back. He'd hoped…well, it had been an idiot's hope.

"I had them save horses for the two of you." Sasha rode up next to him and Jean nodded his thanks. Then he was quiet.

Croft Shor had been Mikasa's partner when they had split up. He liked to keep to himself, not shy but not the most talkative. There ends of his copper hair were sticking to his forehead with dried blood. He kept his head bowed while they rode. They began to close the gap between them and their squad, the titans that had been pursuing them in the forest had fallen too far behind. They were dispersing, every glance over his shoulder he saw less of them until there was no sign of titans on any side.

Their stopping point was the remains of a village from before Wall Maria fell. Night was falling which meant they would find relative safety from titan attack. At least until the sun came up. Jean handed over his horse to be fed and watered when they arrived. He pushed the hair from his forehead, ruffling it up since sweat had made it stick to his scalp. Mikasa arrived back before him, and once she'd reached the safety of the town he'd lost sight of her. Maybe it was for the better. He was worrying too much already and he had his own things to take care of. Like the dull roar in his side.

Jean was marching through the idle crowd of soldiers, head down and feet determined. His intentions had been to see to his own wound, find something to eat and drink, wash the grime from his skin and hair, but he was brought up short by a voice from his left. Her voice stopped him right in his tracks, his eyes turning before his head.

"It's nothing." Mikasa was talking to Eren. He supposed it was stupid to be surprised.

"If you're sure." Eren shrugged, focusing on the bowl in his lap. Mikasa hovered near his shoulder, her fingers tracing circles on her neck, poking at her collar. What a fucking dumb ass. Was Eren really that dense? Was it really so hard for him not to notice? Jean's fingers turned to fists because _he_ noticed. He would have noticed, if he had been in Eren's place. And he wouldn't have been okay with such an obvious attempt to play off her anxiety.

Jean had never pictured himself as truly jealous. His plans for his own life had been pretty straight forward, and he was confident enough in himself to see it to the end. Join the Military Police. Live life nice. Have money enough not to worry. Have a full, warm meal every day. But he hadn't gotten any of that. Instead he was trudging it out with the Survey Corps. He hadn't eaten a warm meal in weeks. He was bone weary every night and every morning he set out to break himself all over again. Living was a game of chance, almost as much as skill. If he survived a day then he was thankful. And worst of all, the worst part of it, was that he was bitterly envious of some dumb kid no older or better than he was.

He didn't even really hate Eren all that much. He didn't really like him, but that was just because it was easier for them to yell at each other than be civil. No, what he hated is how she looked at Eren. How oblivious Eren was to it. And how it didn't seem to ever change.

As he stood, fuming silently, Mikasa had noticed. Her eyes drifted up, casually moving over his face and stealing all the pain from that day. Like a spell that kept all those negative things at bay, her eyes lingered. He didn't move. His mouth probably fell open like an idiot and his heart was working up again. Beating hard against his chest. And as she looked her finger stopped moving over the exposed skin around her neck and she delicately, subtly, twisted the not-quite-a-ring on her finger.

Blood swarmed straight to his cheeks. Her eyes had fallen back on Eren, somberly, but she was now twirling that ring on her finger. He forgot that he was dirty, that he smelled, that the day was lingering in his pores and the fabric of his clothes. He forgot all of that and just…stood there. Cause he was a true idiot and he didn't know how to handle this. After several minutes he stepped toward her. Like…maybe he could say something now. Maybe they were at that point. Where he could just walk up to her and causally throw out an, 'It's a nice night.' Or 'Glad you made it back.' Or 'Nice work out there.'

Mikasa noticed him walking and drew her eyes up again, making him hesitate.

"What's up, Kirstein?" Eren looked up from his food. He didn't seem combative, but the question sounded challenging. Or maybe that was just Jean's imagination.

"Uh…" He forgot words. Mikasa was still looking at him, but had dropped her hands to her side then behind her back. He faltered.

"You look terrible." There wasn't actually any challenge in Eren's voice. He was being completely civil. But Jean's ire was spiking anyway. He was partly embarrassed and still mostly pissed that Eren, the oblivious idiot, could so easily ignore the incredible woman behind him. "You should get cleaned up with others and get something to eat before it's gone."

"I…" He tore his eyes from Mikasa, pain flaring up again and souring his mood even further. "I don't need you to tell me that."

Eren's eyes narrowed. "You're the one who walked over here."

Shit. How did he continually manage to lose all his fucking wits in these situations? "Not for you."

"Huh?" Eren seemed genuinely confused, and Mikasa was now looking away, her lip between her teeth. "What are you talking about? You were clearly walking toward me…"

"No, I wasn't." Jean looked away, fists clenched at his sides. "Just forget it."

"Yeah, fine." Jean stomped away, probably a bit childishly, but he felt like a child. He felt like a dumb stupid child who had let a pretty girl render him a complete idiot. He walked well past where he needed to go, head still fuming, and then back tracked to the temporary barracks. He scrubbed his skin raw and accidentally popped a button off his shirt. He gulped down water until he felt like he was going to throw up and then sat with his cold plate of whatever the cook had scraped from the bottom. The bread was hard and his hands still shook as he wolfed it down because he was so fucking hungry.

His right side was bruised and tender; the skin was puffy and starting to morph into ugly colors. It would hurt for awhile and he'd have to stick to his left hand, but he was better off than most. When he finished eating, his plate balanced on his knee, he heard a sound from beside him that made him move and send his plate and fork tumbling into the dirt.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you." Sasha bent next to him, holding up the fallen dishes. "Hey, are you finished with this?" She held up the last bite of roll and Jean waved in confirmation. The sounds she made while eating were inhuman. He cringed backward, guarding himself from the spray of crumbs.

Sasha wiped her mouth and sighed happily, her tongue hanging out.

"Is that all you wanted?" He spoke harshly, not in the mood for company.

"No." Sasha tore her hands from her cheeks where she'd been caressing herself. Her smile faded and grew more serious as she kneeled down and put her hands on his knee. Jean recoiled, looking around quickly to make sure they weren't noticed. It looked like…well, her position was entirely too friendly for his taste. He carefully pushed her sideways and off his leg.

"I wanted to talk to you about Mikasa." Sasha's eyes misted and Jean found he no longer wished to be part of this conversation.

"I don't know what you think I'd have to say about her." He said bluntly, crossing his arms.

"I was there with you. I saw her…" Sasha shook her head. "I'm sorry I lost her scarf."

Jean felt a small amount of relief that the subject was not his feelings for Mikasa, but rather Mikasa herself. He relaxed. "It was an accident."

"Yeah, but I still feel horrible. Did you see her face? I…" She balled up her fist and forced them into her eyes, rubbing hard. "I only just realized that I have never seen Mikasa without it. All these years she's had that scarf and I'm the one that lost it for her. I just…you talked to her after I left. Is she…is she okay?"

Jean considered lying, just to ease Sasha's conscious. But then, he was never very good at holding back the truth. "Honestly, I don't think so."

Sasha choked and a few tears fell free from her eyes.

"Look, it doesn't matter now. Mikasa's tough. She'll be fine eventually." Maybe. Hopefully. He really wasn't sure anymore.

"I should apologize to her." Sasha lamented. "I think I owe her that much. Since she worked to save me."

Jean shrugged. "You can, but I think it's best not to bring it up. But do what you want."

"Yeah." Sasha rose to her feet, wiping off her knees. "I think you might be right. Still, I wish I could get it back for her." She beamed, looking down at him and seemingly back to her former cheer. "By the way, you know you're missing a button, right?"

Jean sighed, his arms crossed over his chest and his patience already spent. He didn't even bother with a reply before Sasha was skipping away and he was once again in peace. He extended his legs and leaned back, his seat a crate positioned against wood siding of some poor soul's former house. Up above the stars were out and he had a clear view as he let the cool breeze ruffle his hair and clothes. It felt good to just sit for a second. To have a chance to think.

People had passed him by over the next half hour, but his luck was holding. Bad luck. Eren and Mikasa were in front of him, Eren's voice ringing clear through the crisp night air. He opened his eyes, having nearly dozed off where he sat, but neither of them noticed him this time.

"I'm right, after all." Eren said, once again his eyes were not on Mikasa but forward. "I've seen the…Mikasa?"

She stopped short, looking up as if she had just noticed Eren standing there. "Mikasa, what's wrong? You've been acting weird since you got back."

Her fingers fluttered over her bare neck, her eyes turning away. "It's nothing."

Finally, Eren seemed to notice. He pointed to her hands, eyebrows knit in concern. "Where's your scarf?"

She shuddered, looking away. "I…I lost it." Then she was spinning toward him, taking his hands in hers. "I'm so sorry. I lost it. I lost your gift to me."

"What? No, Mikasa, it's fine." He didn't reach out to her, but stood there confused as her shoulders rose and fell. She needed him, couldn't he tell? She was practically begging him to react, to reach out to her, to hold her. "Hey, don't worry about it. We'll get you another one."

Mikasa looked into Eren's eyes, tears falling down her cheeks. "E…Eren?"

"Yeah." He smiled, confident. He ruffled her hair. "We'll get you another one just like it. Okay? Don't worry about it Mikasa." He seemed to feel this was enough, that she should feel better, comforted.

"I…right." She wiped her tears on her fingers, pulling away from him. "You're right. But I don't need another one."

"Are you sure? Cause, I don't think it'll be much trouble to—"

"I don't." She was a bit forceful and that caught Eren by surprise. He blinked. "I don't need another. Thank you, Eren. For thinking of me. But it was just a scarf. It's fine."

She pushed past Eren, leaving him scratching his head. What a moron. Jean jumped up from his seat without thinking. The crate he was using over turned and his plate was forgotten. He was sprinting, feeling urgency but not quite knowing what he would do when he caught her. Mikasa had nearly disappeared from his sight but he found her, squeezed into the shadow between two buildings, leaning back as she stroked her neck.

Jean hesitated. He didn't know if he should approach her. When he stepped toward her, her head snapped in his direction. He held his arms out, a sign of his good intentions.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sneak up on you."

Mikasa let out a breath, turning her face away. "Do not follow me."

"I…"

She turned to leave, but he called her name and that stopped her. Her back was to him now. Jean took another cautious step.

"If you want me to leave you alone I will—"

"I do."

His lips quirked at the corner, a smile creeping up on him unbidden. "Okay. But…if you want…anything. Anything at all…just, uh, you can just ask. Okay? Don't worry about it. Uh, alright, Mikasa?" Her name was revered on his lips, savored as he spoke. She didn't seem to move for some time and then she was leaving. Walking away and then gone.

Jean wandered back to the barracks. His hands were deep in his pockets, his mind drifting. He couldn't indulge the whim that had centered in his brain. Like an itch the idea was consuming his focus. But it was a crazy idea. A dumb idea. The worst idea.

He nudged the door open with his boot, walking inside without paying attention. Most of his squad mates were already asleep. He sat on his bed, staring at the stone walls. Over and over he replayed the scene with Eren and Mikasa. Over and over. Over and over. It was so clear to him. Everything she had said, everything she'd done. But Eren couldn't see it. Eren loved her, that was apparent, but he didn't fully understand.

Jean looked outside the window, the black sky still full of stars and moonlight. If he did it…he could easily die. In fact, it was likely. And for what? For a smile from her? On the off chance that he got a sincere thank you? For the look on her face when he showed up with that scarf in his hands?

No, none of that was the true root of this. It was because Mikasa needed it. She said she didn't, but she did. She said she would be fine, and sure, in time, she would be. These things happen all the time. But…

Jean rubbed his face in his hands. It was true, what they said. Love made you foolish.

Quietly, Jean went to the canvas bag stored near his bed. He started fixing the straps for his gear over his night clothes, not even bothering with the full uniform. This was not a Survey Corps mission. This was just him and an apparent death wish.

The straps fit awkwardly over his clothes, but no one was going to see him. Slipping into the night, he picked out some gear and some swords, though he didn't imagine he'd be fighting any titans so late at night. But if he was going to do something stupid and reckless, he'd do it as smart as possible.

The tricky part was the horse. He needed one if he hoped to make it there and back before morning or before collapsing. On his way to figure it out he grabbed a lantern with a focused beam. Once he lit it he could use it to see into the trees. He was confident enough in his sense of direction to find his way back. Still, it was a long shot that any of this would prove fruitful. He might die out there or he might make it back with nothing to show for it. Both were more likely than success.

There were guards on the outer edges of the town, all keeping a watch for anything suspicious. But all their eyes were trained for the distance, not for up close. Jean fitted a horse, shhing it as he prepared the basic saddle and nothing else. Then he gently eased it outside. There was a rise not too far off that, if he could make it there quietly, then he could ride the rest of the way out of sight.

The process was slow. He was crouched, even though his horse was still pretty obvious. The grass crunched underfoot and he kept his eyes alert for anything. He'd never been on his own like this. Wandering into known titan territory without any backup or friends. Nothing. Just him and a horse.

He broke the hill and started down it. When he looked back, he couldn't see the village anymore. Throwing up his hood, his cloak being the only piece of uniform he grabbed and that was because it was chilly, he got on the horse. They made the distance in an hour, Jean working to keep his bearings as they ran. The woods were in front of him now and he was about where they had come out. Maybe off by half a mile in either direction.

Jean dismounted, tying down his horse before starting up the lantern. He lit the wick and worked the door that focused the light. Shining it upward all he saw were branches and shadows. It was impossible to make out anything definitive. Though, he was sure that a red scarf would stand out…hopefully.

Jean walked, his head focused up and the light spanning out among the trees. The beam wasn't strong enough to reach all the way up, but he'd approach that problem if he needed to. As he walked, sticks and leaves cracking under his weight, he smacked into something solid. Jean stepped backward, holding the light in front of him.

The lantern fell from his fingers, sweat slicking his grip. He trembled and fear rooted him in place. A titan breathed calmly in front of him, eyes closed. The breath from its nose fluttered the ends of Jean's cloak and the fringes of his hair.

Jean's heart pounded hard in his chest. He sucked in air as quietly as possible. _It wasn't going to wake up. It wasn't going to wake up_. He chanted this to himself as he bent, eyes still on the titan, and picked up the lantern. The light shook with the tremble in his hands and he used his free hand to steady his wrist.

Carefully he moved around it, careful not to get too far into the woods. His nerves began to settle as the quiet kept up. For a long time there was nothing. No sudden sounds. No finding the scarf. Nothing but his growing frustration.

This had to be the craziest thing he'd ever done. Over a scarf? A piece of fabric and he was out here instead of sleeping. He was risking injury or death, he was risking Captain Levi's wrath if he found out. All over this damn scarf. And what made it worse… What made it hurt? The fact that this scarf was a symbol of her connection to Eren. Somehow, that didn't actually matter except to piss him off. It would be better for him to let her forget the scarf entirely. Maybe let her use the ring _he_ had given her for comfort. But he couldn't be that selfish with her. Not at the expense of her feelings.

"I'm never going to find this stupid thing." He said into the night. He'd combed the woods, mindful of the time. In an hour he'd have to head back regardless or risk being caught with the rising sun.

He walked until he tripped over a root, knees crashing onto the ground and the lantern falling away and extinguished in an instant. Jean caught his breath for a second, trying to focus. He had already made the decision, he needed to stick with it. Fingers dragging into the dirt he pushed himself upright. He was on his knees when he heard movement.

Something was moving leaves not far from him. Jean's eyes were wide, hoping to see something in the dim moonlight creeping through the canopy. He scrambled for the lantern, but he didn't have time to light it. Whatever it was, it had started to growl. Deep loud rumbling sounds that rattled his heart in his chest and chilled him with fear. What the fuck was out there?

Jean tucked the lantern on his belt and took out his swords, scaling up a tree and to relative safety in an instant. He looked around the floor, trying to see what had made the sound.

Another loud roar and he was spinning again, looking in the dim light for anything. After a second he realized that what he had mistaken for nothing, just a large shadow, was in fact moving. He readied his swords, looking down at the creature crawling on all fours. It was massive, the shape suggesting that it was covered in fur.

Then he managed to light the lantern and shine it down. A bear. It set its front paws on the tree and Jean watched it, partly curious. He'd never seen one before. Not that wasn't a picture. It's teeth reflected the light, making him recoil. He did not want to face it that was for sure. But then his jaw dropped. The bear was climbing.

Bears climbed trees. Jean had no way of knowing that. You didn't learn about bears in school. He wasn't trained to fight bears. How the hell was he supposed to know? Jean's fear kept him moving. The bear had moved easily up the tree and was pacing on the branch Jean had just left.

He'd faced numerous battles, fought and killed titans, and he was losing it to a bear. But part of that fear stemmed from the unknown. He didn't know what this bear was capable of. He didn't know how to fight it. He assumed that like any animal, you stab it and it dies, but his uncertainty made him stay away from it. He kept his sights on the bear, jumping further and further from its reach.

Now that he wasn't looking, his eyes caught the flutter of red. Up above him, back toward the bear, Mikasa's scarf was blowing in the wind, hooked by thin branch. The 3DMG didn't work that high, there was nothing to grab onto. So Jean, still wary of the bear, used it to get as high as he could before he had to climb. The branches grew thinner and thinner, some of them snapping under his weight. The wind made the tree sway and he clung to it, nearly falling at first.

But he was so close. He could see it just over head. Jean reached out, but was too far. He climbed a bit closer, the tree leaning with him and grabbed, but missed. Cursing, he clung to the tree as it swayed back and then hovered. The wind was picking up. The twig holding the scarf in place was shaking violently. Jean made a quick decision, sucking in air, and then throwing himself upward. His fingers closed around the scarf but the world had fallen out from under him. He fell, branches catching his clothes and cheeks. He was falling fast, but he was able to use his gear to keep from serious injury. He collapsed on a branch wide enough to support him. The scarf was in his hand, still trying to escape into the wind.

Jean made it back to his horse easily. He avoided the bear and sleeping titan, escaping the trees and walking the rest of the way. The horse seemed indifferent to his return, but Jean was happy enough for both. He took the scarf and wrapped it around his neck, feeling that to be the best way of carrying it. As he took his place in the saddle, he breathed deep, inhaling the cotton around his neck.

If this scarf had once been Eren's, there was no proof of that anymore. Mikasa had saturated every fiber. Her scent clung into the threads and nearly stopped his heart. The scent was both exhilarating and comforting. He wanted to smother his face in it. He wanted to bury himself in that scent and never wake up. Jean pulled the ends up and over his mouth and nose. He breathed happily for the rest of the ride.

Getting back without notice was difficult. He had to wait and time his actions for blind spots. The soldiers on sentry were not fully aware since it was nightfall, and that worked to his advantage. The sky was still deep navy, but it was starting to lighten. He situated the horse, petting it fondly. They were both in for a long day without much rest. He was grateful for its help.

Once he was back on the dirt roads, no longer afraid to arouse suspicion, his pace slowed. He was aching all over, but excitement was buzzing in his hands and stomach. He didn't know what he was going to do. Just walk up and give it to her? He tried to picture her face in his mind, to imagine her reaction. In one scenario she had thrown her arms around his neck and kissed him, but that wasn't likely to really happen. It made him blush happily, though.

In the end, he didn't have the nerve. He didn't want to contaminate the gesture with his dumb words. So he walked up to her bed and draped the scarf over her, careful not to upset her sleep. He allowed himself one moment to watch her sleep, just one moment or it might look creepy. Then he slipped away and found his own bed. He worked out of the straps, kicking off his boots as he moved. The shirt he wore was now dirty, but he didn't bother to change. He fell onto the bed and shut his eyes. He had about two hours before he'd have to wake up. He was snoring softly in seconds, his body beyond tired. Had it been worth it? He couldn't answer that. Not really. He just knew that it felt right. He felt better knowing that when she woke up, she'd be happy. Even if it didn't show, she would be. That was enough. That was all he needed. He didn't even need to be there or for her to know he had done all that for her. He wasn't after her praise. He wasn't after recognition. He just wanted her to be happy.

* * *

**A/N: There is going to be one more chapter. I'm sorry the shippy parts of this are so subtle, I just wanted to keep it realistic. On the realism note, I realize the actual notion that he might do this in this sort of environment and all is unlikely. But I have to take some liberties and I tried to get him to that decision believably. And my knowledge is based solely on the anime, so this isn't going to fit in with any known story arcs. There next chapter is going to be more focused on specifically Jean and Mikasa. Thank you for reading and for those that reviewed. I really appreciate the feedback. ^_^**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I have decided to continue with this story past this chapter. I don't know how long I will make it, but I have a bit of an idea of what I want to have happen. Thank you for following/favorites/and reviews. Feedback is always nice to hear. **

three

"I think he's dead."

"Shut up, he's still breathing."

"Jean? Hey, Jean?"

Jean heard their voices, in the vague distance, threatening to pull him from sleep. He couldn't move his limbs as he hung in the space between waking and sleeping. His arm covered his face, blocking the sun from his eyes, and he knew that people were crowding around him. The last thing he wanted to do was open his eyes.

In the end, he had to force himself awake. He focused on moving and jolted himself into sitting up. It was the worst way to start the morning. He felt sore all over. His side was aching. His eyes burned with the effort of keeping them open. He had that ravenous hungry feeling that happened when he woke after not enough sleep. Though he would gladly give up his meal if it meant he could lie back down and close his eyes.

Once he was sitting up everyone dispersed and lost interest. He dragged himself to a water basin to splash cold water on his face. The shock of it made him wince, but it helped.

He was pouting when he caught his reflection in the washroom mirror. The water was still dripping down his face and he looked as wrecked as he felt. His hair was sticking up in clumps, glued together from sweating half the night and not washing it. He had a few thin scratches on his cheeks, but they weren't really that bad. They just made him look hellish.

For a second, he considered going out for the day just as he was. _Just…just fuck it. I'm too tired._

But that wasn't wise. Being properly dressed and washed was important. It was the order that kept them a military unit and not just a band of suicidal sword twirlers with fancy bungee cords. So to maintain that order he squinted at his reflection and attempted to pat down his hair. He used his palm to smooth it after wetting his hands and eventually he acquired the good-enough stage. He changed his shirt, put on his uniform pants, but left off his gear harness. He could wait to put all that shit on when they were actually leaving.

He didn't feel any better, but he looked better. His hands were in his pockets, eyes on the ground because the sun was so bright it was obnoxious. It was chilly, too, the wind caught the open collar of his shirt and blew straight through him.

He trudged over the dirt, feet dragging, until a hand caught his elbow and jerked him around.

Jean spun on one foot as his direction was forcibly altered by the person pulling him. His feet moved so that he wouldn't fall, but his brain was still running on no breakfast and two hours sleep. When he recognized the head of silky black hair and he forgot food and his cheeks began to redden.

His sluggish thoughts were too busy revving up his heart rate and pumping excitement like a shot through him. He hung in a state of blissful confusion before he really understood what was happening.

Her grip on his arm was tight. Painful. Her pace was brisk and determined. She was literally dragging him as he stumbled over his own feet. _Oh shit…_

Mikasa stopped in front of the building he'd just left and kicked the door open. Before he could ask she threw him forward into the barracks and then turned and set a chair under the door handle to lock them inside. Jean had tripped on his way in, landing hard on his knees. _The fuck is happening?_

This wasn't supposed to be how it happened. First, she wasn't supposed to think he had anything to do with returning her scarf. Seriously, how'd she figure that out? Second, why was she angry and not happy about it?

Jean scrambled to his feet, catching his hands on the edge of his bed and letting the back of his legs lean on its frame for support. He was breathing heavy, hands held up in defense. Mikasa took two quick steps toward him and he retreated.

"M-Mikasa…uh…what's—"

"Why?" Her tone was clipped, making him shrink back. He glanced around lamely for a defensive position, looking for a place he might hide.

Jean swallowed some of the nerves that were making his hands shake. Fighting titans seemed like nothing compared to this. Mikasa had a way of rendering him incapable and tongue tied. And now she was angry which meant he had no way of defending himself. His mind could not form words together. "What'd you—"

"I know it was you." She was deathly quiet. Then she took in a deep breath and her stance turned a little less aggressive. "Why did you do it?" She was softer now and she managed to face him.

He didn't know what he saw in her eyes, but it wasn't anger. Her presence and her words and voice, all of that read anger. But not her eyes. They said something else.

She stepped closer again, but he remained planted, knees shaking. To be fair, part of that was due to hunger.

"It was reckless." She pinched the scarf now safe around her neck and pulled it up to cover her mouth.

It was a gesture he'd observed often, when she was thinking or when Eren started raving about how he was going to defend humanity. It was a gesture of insecurity or fear, but one wouldn't know what without knowing Mikasa. He felt guilty for causing it now.

"It was reckless and dangerous."

He opened his mouth, but then he noticed the small twine of silver around her finger. Even now she hadn't taken it off? Given her reaction at the moment, it should be at the bottom of a well or lost in the grass somewhere. But it was there and now he didn't know what to think except that he was more happy and elated than the situation called for.

"Please. Why did you do it?" Her eyebrows drew together, a pout no doubt forming on the lips he could no longer see. "Why would you do something like that? You hardly know me."

"That's not true." He cringed after hearing the words leave his mouth. He'd spoken without thinking._ Damn it_. "That's not true." He repeated, because he might as well commit. "I've known you for five years. We may not be…friends. But we're on the same side here." He lowered his eyes, drawing his hand up the back of his head. "Five years is a long time. To…get to know people." He was suddenly blushing, hard. He could feel the fluttering in his stomach as he spoke and he scratched at his cheek with the need to fidget. "It's the same for most of the 104th, right? We all kinda know each other a bit better than everyone else."

Her eyes were roaming over him and making him uncomfortable. What should he do with her staring so directly? She'd never paid him much attention before. "This doesn't feel like a gesture of camaraderie. This is not the same as going out of your way to assist in a fight. Or risking yourself to save a squad member in the midst of battle. This is…"

She didn't seem to know what to call it. He didn't either. What did all this say about him? What did _she_ think this said?

"I did not ask for this favor." She wasn't trying to be cruel, but he felt his heart shattering all the same. This ache in his chest hurt worse than any past injury he could remember. And there wasn't likely to be a cure.

Mikasa could not understand.

She couldn't see any reason for him to do such a thing when, well it was funny actually, she would have done it for Eren. In a second, she would have done the same thing for Eren. And yet she couldn't fathom that someone would do anything crazy or reckless for _her_. And now he felt angry because someone like her should not be this shocked over someone caring.

"Were you expecting a favor in return? Is that why?"

"No. I don't expect anything." He felt defeated, drained of everything he had left inside. He was just pieces that were being chipped smaller and smaller until there was nothing left to lose. He felt empty. And worse, he felt foolish for it. "I didn't do it for any favors. Or rewards. Or anything. Okay? You owe me nothing, Mikasa."

She shook her head, refusing his explanation. "Then why? Why do something like this?" She twisted the end of the scarf in her fingers.

The pleading tone tore him apart.

Was this what if felt like…when pieces of you were ripped away, torn and hacked? Maybe he was just being dramatic and a teenager, but that's what it felt like. No one liked to give any credit to emotional pain in this world. There were too many people being literally ripped in half to worry about the broken pieces of a young soldier's heart.

Even now he couldn't bear to see her hurt. "I did it because I wanted to. That scarf meant a lot to you, so it meant a lot to me that you got it back. I didn't do it for any sort of reward. You wanted it so I wanted to get it for you. That's all."

"I don't understand." She was shaking now. Just slightly. It was barely there, but he could tell. He could always tell. With Mikasa, everything was subtle and underplayed. The depths of her were not on the surface for everyone to see. You had to be looking. Well, Jean had done nothing but look for the past five years.

She hadn't ever been truly angry with him. She just didn't understand. Maybe he'd been subtle too. In this, at least. It was strange how he'd never felt the urge to hold anything back. He'd speak his mind and fuck you if you didn't like it. But with her, he'd always been quiet. With her he always held back. How many times did he want to tell her she was beautiful? How many times did he want to hug her and spin her around after making it back safely? How many times did he want to tell her how amazing she was? More times than he cared to admit. And not one of those times did he actually speak up. Well, once he did. But was a long time ago now.

Jean's posture was slumped and as drained as his energy. He kept his gaze down, looking up out of the corner of his eyes, because even now he was just an embarrassed flustered boy with a crush.

Mikasa was trying to process, trying to put sense to what he'd said, but he could tell she was failing. _Damn it_. He shuffled his feet, moving closer. This was getting out of hand. Talking to her like this, being open about all this right to her face, it was terrifying. Especially given the reception it was having. Honestly, she didn't have to look like affection from him was akin to catching the pox.

"You know how you're sort of irrational when it comes to Jaeger." Mikasa looked up quickly, her eyes hardening a fraction. She had this 'how dare he mention Eren' look and, yeah yeah, he hadn't expected less. "You do reckless things and nearly die trying to help him. You'd probably be up there with Captain Levi, honestly, even at your age, if you weren't so obsessed with Jaeger." Ugh, every word was like swallowing spoiled milk. It just…didn't sit well. But this was how she would understand. "Well, that's why I did all that for you. Same thing."

_You make me reckless. You make me stupid. You make me want to live and yet I would probably die for you. What a fucking irony that is. _

Whoever decided that love was a good idea had never felt it. Because it was _not_ a good idea. It was fucking dumb. So ridiculous and unreasonable and it did not make any fucking sense.

"I guess I…" Her demeanor had changed and now she was the shy one. She pulled her shoulders up to her cheeks and looked at her shoes. "I knew that you liked me. My face. My…hair. But…that was just…" She retreated further into the scarf, her eyes focusing on some distant memory that he had no way of understanding. He wanted to. He wanted to know every memory, even the ones that would make her look so stricken, but that wasn't his place. "But it was just about my appearance. Wasn't it? Because I look different you wanted me?"

He laughed. He hadn't meant to and he sucked it back in as soon as the sound left his mouth. Because how simple would that be? If all he wanted was her looks? If he only saw her as a pretty face he wouldn't be standing there right now half dead from fatigue, starvation, and various injuries, while fighting the urge to throw up because she was too amazing to even be talking to him. If this had started with her differences making his heart stop in his chest after one look then it had certainly evolved into something much stronger.

Mikasa's eyes narrowed and he clapped his hand over his traitorous mouth.

"This is funny?"

He shook his head violently.

Mikasa kicked at the ground again, the flash of anger dissipating. Jean felt all those fluttering nerves returning. She looked away as she spoke, "I'm sorry. I should have thanked you before…yelling. Thank you."

He nodded loudly.

"Thank you." She repeated quietly, only this time she was pinching the ring on her finger and twisting it. He wanted to reach out to her, but he had nothing to offer. They weren't friends so he couldn't hug her. They weren't a couple so he couldn't hold her. They weren't…well they were sort of teammates but what options did that leave? A pat on the back?

The silence that stretched between them after that was excruciating. He could hear every faint breath even though his heart was beating loud in his ears. The mood had shifted in those seconds. He hadn't realized it before but in the silence he could feel it. How had they ended up like this? Was she always standing so close? He could smell her in the air, feel the heat from her body. He tugged at his collar.

"This ring." Mikasa continued to twist it absently on her finger and Jean tried not to look. His throat was so dry. He hadn't had anything to drink and now he was regretting it. "You gave this to me. Was it for the same reason?"

"Uh…" Was it getting hot out there? The sun must have been pounding on the roof outside, cause the air was stifling. In answer to her question, he let his head move up and down. He wished he didn't blush so easily. That was always such a giveaway.

"I see." Mikasa reached out to him, fingers light on his chest. He nearly jumped out of his own skin. She moved so soundlessly, fluidly. The toes of her boots had tapped against his. If this was how he died, then, well, it was better than being eaten. Much better.

Every single muscle was straining with the effort of keeping still. He'd never fought so hard not to move in his life. He wasn't breathing. Mikasa's hands moved from his chest, gliding along his shirt, to his back. She leaned with her arms, resting her head just below his neck. "Thank you."

"N-n-no…" he swallowed thickly. "…p-problem."

He supposed that it was just a simple hug. Nothing to get excited over. And yet, he still had to mantra his thoughts to keep blood from rushing below his waist.

Mikasa seemed so small, her hug gentle and reserved. He wanted to put his arms around her but he had no experience with this and suddenly he wasn't sure if there was a right or wrong way to hug someone.

Seconds were passing him by and if he didn't move she was going to let go and then he'd really hate himself. Screwing up his nerve, he bent his head, marveling in how her hair felt against his jaw, his cheek. His arms moved to her back, closing down lightly. And once he had moved the shaking in his limbs stopped. His muscles relaxed. He let out a breath. His eyes closed and he dared to pull her tighter. Mikasa tensed, but did not pull away at first.

It had been worth it. Even with how he would feel immediately after she left, which would be like shit, and with her initial anger, him probably missing breakfast, all of it was worth it.

Just for this. For a few minutes where he didn't feel so empty and alone. The world wasn't going to hell, the future wasn't something to fear, for a few minutes, he was fine with the here and now. He felt good.

Mikasa pulled away, moving enough of a distance to leave a cool shadow in her wake. She wasn't looking at him and she backed away. He wanted to say something, but given his record, he thought it best to shut up. With each moment of silence, she took a step backward.

She moved the chair over and opened the door, glancing once over her shoulder before leaving him behind.

-oOo-

Jean was a dramatic figure in the empty barracks. His fists clenched, eyes shadowed. He felt the hunger twisting his stomach and his throat was crying for water and his eyes were on fire, bloodshot and rimmed with fatigue. Yet he did not move for the longest time.

He was staring at the door, now cracked to the open air, and trying not to forget. If he moved it might erase the pressure of her arms on his back. The tickle of her hair on his face. If he moved he would forget.

"Whoa, Jean, are you just getting up man?" Connie strolled through the open door, hands behind his head and bread crumbs on his cheek. He went to the bed he had slept in and started fastening his harness over his shirt and pants. "Hey, we're moving out. Wha…hey. Are you okay?"

Jean's neck strained with the weight of his head as he turned. "Fine."

Connie looked side to side, "Sure…you just…well, you look like your soul fell into a meat grinder."

Ha, that's kind of what it felt like. "No. Just my heart."

"What?" Connie laughed as he threw his jacket on and headed for the door. "You're pretty weird sometimes."

"Just leave, Springer."

"Okay. Okay. Yeesh. Dramatic?" Connie was about to leave, but turned again. "And seriously, we're all leaving." He ran from the room following Jean's harsh glare.

Now left in quiet, Jean got dressed as his mood mellowed. He wasn't at all up to his normal caliber, he was too drained.

A hug from Mikasa, while the most thrilling experience of his seventeen years, also left him craving what he couldn't have. Now he knew what she felt like, how holding her could feel, and it made him want more. More that he couldn't have.

He moved without much thought. Walking with the flow of people, grabbing a horse and hoisting himself up. He did as he was told or ordered without comment, or even, caring. He just wanted that day to be over so he could get some real sleep.

They split into units as they rode back toward the Wall Rose, assuming the tradition formation of different units split up and spread out. Tonight they would be inside and then he could sleep in his proper bed at HQ. They would ride a steady pace unless they faced trouble, saving the horses' energy. Jean was in a unit with Sasha, Amber, Connie, and a seasoned soldier named Wagner. They rode on the middle right of the formation.

Jean had managed to drink from the flask on his horse, but he was starving. It was becoming too much for him to concentrate on anything else. He brought his horse next to Sasha.

"Hey, what kind of food do you have on you?"

Sasha balked. "I don't know what you mean?"

He gritted his teeth at another painful twist in his stomach. He was going to pass out any second. "I know you've got something on you somewhere. Come on, I missed breakfast."

"Okay, okay." Sasha glanced over her shoulder, but Wagner was looking elsewhere, his thin blue eyes scanning their surroundings. She reached into a pocket and pulled out some bread and handed it to him.

He stuffed bite after bite clumsily into his mouth, trying not to choke as he rode while swallowing. Then she handed him a second handful of bread, which he took and ate. She twisted and rummaged in the saddle bags, pulling out a square of cheese. She handed that off as she bent backwards and came up with a full bowl of the oatmeal they'd been served for breakfast.

She grinned shyly as she handed it all over to him, but for once, he wasn't out to criticize her for risking punishment over extra food. At least his hunger was dealt with now.

"Are you two done with your feast, cause we got a red flare." Amber pointed over their shoulders to the unit behind them. A red flare had gone up and far in the distance two titans broken the horizon. She pulled her gun from her belt, blew the hair from her eyes, and fired it straight up.

Wagner charged up as they all broke into a gallop. Another glance behind them and Jean saw the titan swat a horse into the air, its rider flying high and then toward the ground, where she was caught in the second titan's hand. Jean looked away as the spray of blood darkened the blue of the sky.

Wagner was at his side, staring at him hard. The man was older, a bit older than most willing to venture outside the walls. His eyes were still a crisp, intelligent blue though his brown hair had begun to grey.

"Keep riding."

Jean didn't know why this was helpful, but it made him focus on what he needed to do. And that was to keep the formation so more didn't have to die. Jean turned once more, but the titans were down. He breathed out in relief as he could still see two horses with riders galloping hard.

Far to their right was another cluster of trees. Jean eyed it warily, his eyes focusing for an instant on the definite forms taking shape behind the trees. He looked forward. The Wall was in sight. Another two or three miles.

Their horses were being pushed to their limits as three titans broke the tree line and started running straight for them. The riders from the unit behind were crossing as they rode, trying to keep out of the titan's path while still riding forward.

Jean knew nothing but the constant thunder of hooves and the hard crashing of titan footsteps. He was focused on the wall. He'd never really gotten into that whole 'the walls are gods' mentality, but right now they looked heavenly. Divine. He just had to reach the walls and then he could stop running.

The group spread over the grass as they rode. Wagner was in charge of their unit so Jean focused on his goal only.

The rest of the units were converging, a mad dash to get to safety. When he was close enough to see the gate, Jean paused.

Everyone was riding hard for the same point. They were crashing and bumping into each other, titans converging from other directions. Jean looked over his shoulder; the titans from the trees were gaining ground on the two survivors of the broken unit. Nearly all of the squad was safely through the gate now. Sasha and Amber were smaller riders and their horses pulled ahead of him. Once again, Jean considered turning back to help.

"Look forward, soldier." Wagner put his horse behind Jean. "Eyes on the gate. Don't look back."

Jean felt a flare of hatred.

Wagner's face was impassive, stern. Jean bent his head, knowing that the gate was close. Close enough to make his will to turn around weaken. Sasha, Amber, and Connie were inside. He closed his eyes. It still didn't feel right to leave anyone behind. Why was his life so special that he should be safe and not them?

When he opened them the shadow of the gates was over his face. He slowed his horse in the cluster of riders pouring through and then the outside world was behind him. He looked at his hands. He was supposed to be killing titans and yet, more often than not, he felt like he was running from them. Running while others were left behind.

Wagner met him on the inside, looking solemn. "Years don't make it any easier."

Jean was bitter, his eyes flashing. _Fuck this old guy._ He was the one who'd told Jean to stay behind. And yeah, maybe Jean didn't have to listen to him and that fact made him feel even worse. "Seemed easy enough for you."

"No easier than it would have been to lose you too. And I was in charge of you, not them."

"I'm nothing special—" Jean's grip on his reins was strained. He still felt the blood in his veins, the adrenaline. He still saw the frantic riding of the unit behind them and shutting his eyes didn't make the image fade.

"No. You're not. None of us are. But when you are in charge, the lives lost under your command carry more weight than the ones you leave behind." Wagner might have been trying to sound sagely, but it was nothing that Jean didn't already know. He'd been in command before. Not officially, but good soldiers had died at his orders. And yes, they carried with you more heavily than the rest of the fallen masses. Because you felt responsible.

But what did the weight that _he_ felt matter?

_Fuck_ how he felt. He needed to do what was right.

"If I was in charge, I wouldn't let that happen. I wouldn't let anyone just die, whether I was in charge of them or not. It doesn't matter if I how I would feel, because I would try to save anyone that I could. Cause their life is just as important." Jean's temper was flaring. He should be keeping his mouth shut with this guy who could potentially ruin his career, but he didn't care. He was being irrational, even in the back of his mind he knew that. You can't save everyone. Would risking more lives to save a few be any better? If Jean had died with those two soldiers, then there would be three dead instead of two. Or maybe they would all be alive right now. Or maybe just Jean would have died.

"Those are bold words, spoken from someone with little experience."

"I have _plenty_ experience." He was too fatigued to really consider what he was saying. Later he would. For now, it felt good to lash out. "I've seen friends die. Sometimes it's been my fault, sometimes people who believed in me…people I was giving orders to. Like those soldiers back there, that was my fault. Whatever you told me to do; I was the one that left them behind."

Jean felt justified at least. He felt that he was right. He felt it very strongly. He didn't buy any of this sacrifice for the sake of the whole. If they couldn't save everyone, what was the point? Maybe he was just young, but he couldn't help the rage of frustration that filled him.

Wagner sighed, looking sad. "If that is how you feel, then you'll destroy yourself before the titans do."

Jean didn't know what he meant, so he just let his glare be an answer. Wagner rode away without another word. Jean hopped off his horse and pressed his forehead against its neck. He needed to catch his breath. His heart was struggling to keep up.

This isn't how it should be. They shouldn't have to suffer so many sacrifices. This wasn't how they would win. He saw Marco's face suddenly, and it shook him. Tears burned in his eyes as he walked his horse with the rest of the squad.

The slow defeated walk back to HQ. Always they returned decimated. There had to be a better way. A way that brought them home with victories instead of defeat after defeat. He didn't know how they could accomplish that. Maybe, at some point, every truly seasoned soldier walked these streets after a mission thinking the same thing as him. Guilt ridden over friends they couldn't save, frustrated that so many had to die under the pretense of saving everyone, and craving change. And maybe by the end they all sounded like Wagner.

Everyone's head was bowed as they walked. No one wanted to catch the eye of disappointment. Jean didn't know how far he had walked. He was just putting one foot in front of the other. Silent. Brooding. Broken. He doubted there had ever been a time where he felt worse. And then...

And then, he felt a hand in his palm, fingers stretching out to twine with his.

He looked up, catching the bowed profile of Mikasa.

_M-Mikasa?_

Jean's mouth fell open as they walked, hands clasped. Her fingers were slender, smooth against his skin. But even the good feeling of Mikasa wasn't enough for him to forget the guilt and anger seething in his soul. But it helped. He squeezed lightly, looking back at his boots as the crowd jeered and called and threw out accusations and blame.

Holding her hand did not make his problems go away. But he felt, at the very least, he could bear them now.

* * *

**A/N: Again, any name misspelling, I'm sorry. It's hard to find a real spelling for them. Second, I have not read the manga, so I don't know anything that happens (aside from a few spoilers) after episode 25 or the anime. I hope I still capture the spirit of the show and that it reads in character. I fully intend to develop this Jeankasa thing into a full blown romance soon, but I have to get the characters to that point. They need time and I'm going to do it how I think is most believable.**

**NOTE: (Feel free to skip this) I don't plan on writing from Mikasa's point of view, but I have a few thoughts on her that differ from what I've read in fanfiction so far. You'll see as the story goes on and hopefully it will all be good changes. **

**NOTE.2: This chapter went through some revisions, thanks to the beta-ish/comments of Adventure Span. **

**Thank you for reading. ^_^  
**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I am including a few OCs in this one. Some from before (because so many canon characters get killed I have to invent more to keep the story going) like Amber and Croft. Another two, Tomika and Renford, are from my Levi x Petra story "A Little Push." It's not necessary for you to read that, but I'm just letting people know that is where they started. This is the part where I deviate from the canon plot. I have plans for where this is going, and that involves tweaking, so if things don't add up with the canon, it's probably on purpose. (Mostly, I know so little about the Annie, Reiner, and Bertolt thing. So I am mostly leaving them out of this story. My focus is Jean and to get to the ending I want, I'm probably going to start treading in AU territory.)**

four

The dejected soldiers were all treated to a hot meal that evening. When they were inside the walls, they were awarded all the special comforts of their station. The best humanity had to offer. It was nice, for the time they could enjoy it. Since missions outside the walls meant nothing but cold nights, cold food, and lots and lots of riding. Not to mention, the very real possibility that you would be eaten.

Food, whatever quality, would have been a godsend just then. But this happened to also taste good. Warm salted meats— salt was so rare but so fucking divine—potatoes with spices and steamed vegetables. It was a rare treat to have a meal so filling. Jean had never had this kind of food growing up in Trost. Granted, this could have easily been his meal every day if he had joined up with the military police. What the hell had he been thinking?

"If you don't slow down, you're going to get sick." Amber sent him a casual glance, a small smile gracing her thin lips.

"Fuck that. I'm not waiting for it to get cold." After the morning he had, he thought he would be in a worse mood about now. But his smile and easy manners weren't forced. Amber chuckled quietly as she set her spoon into her food and lifted it neatly to her mouth.

"I wanted to ask you…" Amber looked sideways, her spiky brown bangs falling over her face. "Before, I happened to overhear you. Back when we first got inside the walls."

Jean set his fork down, looking at his plate with disinterest. "Yeah. What about it?"

"Nothing." She said quickly, then she let out a breath, blowing the hair out of her eyes. "Well, not nothing. I was curious. About what you said. Did you mean it?"

"I said it, didn't I? Why would I say it if I didn't?" His words were more confident than he felt.

"I don't know you well enough to answer that. We've only been working together a short while." Amber took a sip of her drink, eyes lingering on her cup. "But I wanted to say, I think I agree with you."

"Hm?"

"In part. About going back. We should have helped. If we all worked together we could have done something. It's just, when you're in the moment you get a split second to decide. You have to make your decision and stick with it. And it's…it's easier to choose self-preservation." His fists clenched on his thighs, hidden under the table. Amber was looking at him, considering.

"Yeah. I've noticed."

She didn't say anything the rest of their meal. She just quietly spooned food into her mouth, eyes forward. Jean lost his appetite.

He'd found that during the long march to HQ, his mood had settled considerably. It helped that Mikasa had walked with him nearly the entire way. She hadn't said anything, but she held his hand and that was enough. It felt natural, walking with her. For once, his nerves hadn't been getting the better of him. The fact that he could feel the metal looped around her finger wasn't necessarily discouraging either.

They'd split up shortly before they had made it back. Mikasa hadn't said a word to him, just let go and walked away. It was an odd thing to do, the whole thing was odd. But in a good way. Maybe he had changed things for the better with that whole mess from earlier. He could hope, at least.

Bed was calling his name, but he stayed up for a while longer with the rest of the lower ranked squad members. They were mingling together like they had in the mess hall during training, when things hadn't been so bleak. Connie and Sasha were giggling together, making faces over their plates. Jean didn't find it so funny, but they seemed to be enjoying themselves. Amber had left her plate still half eaten and was trying to engage people a table over in cards. The cheeky grin was back on her face and her brown eyes alight with mischief. The men surrounding her were digging in their pockets for money and odds and ends to gamble with. Jean hadn't ever played Amber at cards, but something told him that it wasn't going to end well for anyone but her.

Eren wasn't there. He was probably eating with the Captain and some higher ups. You know, cause he was humanity's hope and that afforded him certain privileges. Jean was still soured to the idea, but he couldn't deny that Eren was definitely an asset. If not for him personally, but for what he could achieve in titan form. The rest of the dynamic trio seemed to be absent too. Armin hadn't been on their last mission. He'd stayed behind with Hanji. And as for Mikasa…

She was sitting alone in the far corner of the mess hall. Twice he considered sitting next to her. Not that it had actually motivated him to move. In his indecision, it wasn't the first time Jean had missed Marco. The little dork could make any situation seem tolerable. The optimism he had was nearly unbearable. If he'd been there now, Jean was sure that Marco would be pushing him towards Mikasa's corner of the room. He'd be smiling about it the whole time while Jean would be fighting embarrassment.

"What're you smiling about?"

Jean jumped at the sudden sound to his left, lurching sideways to find Sasha grinning next to him. He relaxed into his seat, arms crossing. Connie was across from her, his arm draped over the back of his chair.

"Just thinking."

"Hey, Jean?" Sasha's eyes were big as she looked up at him, even though he was trying to avoid locking eyes with her.

"What?"

"I noticed Mikasa has her scarf back."

Jean stiffened, he looked away stubbornly. "Yeah, and?"

"And. How? That thing flew away into the middle of the woods. How could she find it?"

"Maybe the wind of fate and destiny brought the scarf back to its rightful owner." Connie looked into the distance dramatically. When he noticed two deadpan stares he shrugged. "Or you know, maybe not."

"I think you had something to do with it, though I can't for the life of me figure out how or even why." Sasha poked her finger into her cheek, squinting her eyes in thought. "Nope. Nothing comes to mind." She rammed the tip of her finger over and over into her cheek to mimic concentration. But it only worked to squish her face sideways and make her look silly.

"Why would Jean have anything to do with it?" Connie asked, making Jean ever more uncomfortable. He would rather not be part of this conversation.

"Cause he was there when I lost it. And I went to him specifically afterward to ask him about it. And he's the one who said that Mikasa was really _really_ upset about it. So. Who else could have done it?"

"Um, maybe Mikasa herself? If it was so important to her." Connie waved his hand lazily, thinking this the simplest explanation.

Sasha swung her head side to side. "I don't think so."

"Go on, Jean. Tell her it wasn't you so she can let it drop. Honestly, she's been on this subject the entire way here. And half way through dinner." Connie blushed lightly, but covered it by taking a drink from his cup.

"No. I got it for her." Connie and Sasha both slammed their hands on the table. Sasha's voice rang out over the hum of conversation as she pointed a finger in Jean's face.

"I knew it!"

"Jean? _Jean_? How the hell did you pull _that_ off?"

Jean pulled Sasha down by her collar, hissing through his teeth. "Would you keep it down?"

She pulled his hand away and had the decency to look sheepish. "Sorry."

"Seriously though, what brought on such a selfless act of stupidity? Cause I tell you right now, there's no way I'm risking my life over some girl's scarf. I don't care how pretty I think she is—Ow." Connie rubbed his cheek were Sasha had slapped him. He pouted quietly.

"Jean." Sasha turned somberly in her seat, twisting her body so her knees were pointing at him. "Is it about more than your crush on Mikasa?"

"I don't know what the fuck you guys are talking about." He pushed his chair back, ignoring the loud clatter as it overturned.

He turned on his heel and started walking. He'd meant to find the exit so he could get to his room, but he crossed too close to Mikasa's corner. He looked up and their eyes locked. He couldn't hear a sound; the room might as well have been empty. For a second he let his gaze linger, because for once, she was returning it fully. Then reality came crashing over him like a bucket of water, bringing all the sound of the mess hall. He blinked, breaking eye contact and then continued on his way.

He wasn't imagining it though. There had definitely been a moment. A space of a few seconds where they spoke without words. Jean had no idea what to make of any of it. He somehow walked to his room, found his bed, pulled off his boots, and fallen onto the covers. He assumed he'd done all that since he didn't remember anything between leaving the mess hall and feeling a pillow beneath his head. Unfortunately, he was too tired to ponder on it for long. As much as he wanted to stay awake, sleep was calling to him. He let his eyes close and let his thoughts wander.

-oOo-

The next morning he woke up without a fight. He dressed and washed. Got his breakfast. Went through morning exercise. Did the few tasks he was ordered throughout the day. Nothing fancy.

He was currently helping with the maneuver gear. Unloading all the gear from the carts as well as whatever salvageable pieces they'd managed to cart back with them. Croft was helping him, a strongly built if not considerably tall man, he was well suited to all the lifting.

"Reminds me of home." Croft commented lightly, stopping to wipe the sweat from his eyes. "We did a lot of this hauling of hay bales and the like. Back home I mean."

Jean nodded, picking up another gear set and dragging it from the back of the cart.

Croft took it from him and set it on the ground. At Jean's silence, he hadn't tried to engage in conversation again. The pieces of gear were thrown into crates to be loaded into maintenance; the rest was stored on wall mounts for testing later. Jean kicked the crate with his boots, pushing it along the stone floor. Croft was hooking the rest of the gear onto their mounts.

"This one is missing its docking clip. Nothing else missing, just…just that clip on the one side." Croft stopped and scratched the back of his blond hair. "Never seen that before."

Jean grinned.

The door burst open and light poured into the dark room. They'd been thankful for the shade and now their eyes were adjusting to the sudden brightness of outside.

"Kirstein?" The voice at the door was official and direct.

Croft's head turned incriminatingly toward Jean. The soldier, a lieutenant, followed Croft's eyes. "Jean Kirstein?"

Jean finally nodded, his mind racing to figure out what he could have done.

"Follow me." Vague. Unhelpful. Jean offered a shrug as apology to Croft for leaving the rest of the work to him. The lieutenant's pace was brisk. He led Jean to a small gathering of officers. Captain Levi and Commander Erwin were standing with the Wagner. Oh shit. He had to go and mouth off to the old man yesterday. He _had_ to keep talking. Now he was about to pay for it. Fuck.

As Jean got closer, the talking stopped and eyes fell on him. _Shiiiiit._

"Do what you want. I really don't give a shit." Captain Levi turned and left.

Erwin's eyes were cold and fierce. Jean shifted on his feet and tried not to let his discomfort show. When the commander finally left, Jean could breathe again. He'd only seen the commander a few times, never directly. It was like he wore his station on his shoulders, the weight of all those lives under his command. It must have been really heavy.

"Kirstein." Wagner stepped forward and Jean squared his stance, chin high. "You were part of the 104th?"

The question was not what he was expecting. "Yes, sir." He felt the 'sir' might help his case. Extra politeness wouldn't hurt.

Wagner's eyes fell, a smile weak on his face. "My son was in that group. Thomas."

Jean's jaw clenched. His stance slackened. Of course, Wagner looked very little like Thomas except for, now that he knew, a few genetic similarities. "I'm sorry, sir." Jean wrestled with the words on his tongue, he didn't want to push things with this man, but at the same time, he felt an obligation to speak. "I didn't know Thomas very well, sir. But I know that he contributed to the successful evacuation of Trost. No civilians were lost. So, I really can't claim that I know anything about him. But I know that every person saved that day owes him thanks. Him and countless others. Sir."

The firm blue of his eyes were pressing. Jean was afraid he'd overstepped his limits. "There's a lot of passion in the things you say. But no temperance."

The balance of compliment and scold was precise.

The older man sucked in a breath, steeling his features. "Anyway. That's not why I called you here. With some of the other squads from around the wall converging here, we've found ourselves with more horses than we can adequately hold."

"That's…that's unfortunate. Sir."

"Indeed. It's a bit of a problem. That's why I've asked for you specifically." Jean groaned under his breath. "I've gathered up a small group for you. Shouldn't take more than a week. Two at most."

"Shouldn't…_what_ take more than a week?"

"Building a new stable. Like I said, we're in desperate need of the room."

Jean's mouth fell open. "Build a new one? With what?"

Wagner looked around, gesturing toward the woods. "With wood, kid. There's plenty if you know where to look."

"You're not serious. That's ridiculous. Aren't there contractors who can do this sort of thing? I can't even build a bird house—"

"I'm not asking you to build a bird house." Wagner's smile faded and he put his arms behind his back. "As for the how, that's not my problem. It's yours."

Jean's fists shook. It took all his control not to yell in the old bastard's face. "If this is about the other day—"

Wagner put his hand on Jean's shoulder. "It doesn't matter either way. You've been given your orders." He pushed a piece of paper against Jean's chest and Jean caught it. "See that it gets done. Promptly. You're in charge of the project, so you're in charge of these names until it's done."

Jean waited until he was gone to throw the list on the ground. "Fuck that guy. What the hell is his problem?" An entire stable. From scratch. Jean burned rice, for fuck's sake. He specifically chose a military career because that's where his strengths were. Agility. Intelligence. Balance. All that fighting shit that helped with using the maneuver gear. He wasn't good with building things. Or creating things. But orders were orders and he was not about to let Wagner get the better of him. Fine. He wanted a stable. Then he'd get a stable.

He picked the list from the ground and scanned the names. Croft Shor. Sasha Braus. Amber Laclind. Tomika Garret. Renforld Arrlis. And Mikasa Ackerman. At first, Jean's heart skipped over reading her name. The anticipation of working with her was thrilling, even if the task was next to impossible. However, as he walked, he noticed something else about the list of names he'd been given.

All of them were known for their lack of teamwork.

He let out a deep breath. Turning on his heel he went straight toward the castle. He was going to have to gather everyone up on his own. Great. If _he_ didn't believe it coming from his superior, then the rest of them would surely find this a joke. What worried him most was having to approach Mikasa. He hadn't talked to her at all since returning. He decided to find her last.

Croft was easiest to find since Jean knew where he was. Amber was next, but he ran into her accidentally. She took a minute to convince, but after he explained who had given the order she shut up and followed him. Renford was polishing windows on the ground floor and he sounded grateful for the change in work. He hated cleaning. Tomika was sleeping under a wagon, her snores being the only indication that she was under it. Renford had been the one to find her.

"Wake up." Renford kicked at the wheels and sent Tomika scrambling. She crawled out and stood at attention, her uniform a mess and her black hair falling in long tangles.

"Wait, it's only you? Fuck this. I'm going back to sleep." Tomika began to lie back down when Jean caught her shoulder.

"You're not going back to sleep."

Tomika shrugged out of his grip. "Yeah? And who the fuck are you then? Huh?"

"The one with orders assigning you to construction detail." He held up the paper, but Tomika glanced over it without reading.

"Don't think so. I'm not a builder. I fight titans. You know? Saving humanity and all that crap. I don't build a…what's this say? A stable? What the fuck?"

"I don't give a shit what you are or not. You're building this thing with the rest of us." Jean was growing weary of this whole endeavor. Even he felt the order was ridiculous, how was he supposed to convince anyone else? The others had all been persuaded easily enough, but Tomika was what he had expected in way of agreement.

"Or what? You going to court martial me?" She yawned and stretched her long arms. "Yeah, didn't think so."

Jean watched her begin to walk away, her gait as lazy as her attitude. He could use force to assert his orders, that's what Levi might have done. But he made a quick decision based on observation and decided on a different route. "I'll have you done with work for the day before dinner starts." Tomika stopped walking. "That goes for everyone. We'll start at normal hours, but you all get shorter days. Any time after 15:00 is yours to spend. Since you're all on special assignment with this, I can make it happen. No serving tea or helping the cooks. No scrubbing the barracks. No dusting the fucking chandeliers at all hours. Just put in your eight hours every day until we're done."

Tomika turned on her heel, her hands locked behind her head. "You can guarantee that?"

"Yeah."

"Fine." She strolled away and when Jean called after her she turned with a grin. "It's after 15:00, chief. I'm free for the rest of the day."

After that only two names remained. Sasha was another easy one. She agreed without him offering her any sort of reward. The rest of them had all brightened considerably when he'd made his offer to Tomika. If he was going to be stuck working with them, it was better to have them all happy about it. The prospect of set hours, with an early shift end, was enough to make them all grateful of the switch in assignment. The last name on his list was Mikasa. He was alone now, since everyone had followed Tomika's lead and dispersed for the day. He wasn't sure if he preferred it this way or if it would be better with a group.

He found Mikasa waiting on a bench outside a room. He didn't know what the room was for, but he didn't ask. He was too preoccupied. She noticed him immediately, since the hall was pretty empty. But she didn't look put-off. If anything, she looked relieved.

"Hey." He started lamely.

"Hi."

"So. Uh…" He scratched the back of his neck. _Don't be stupid. Don't be stupid. Just talk like a normal person. You got this. _"I've got these orders here…uh, for this assignment and you're on the list they gave me." _Nailed it._

Her eyes narrowed, but he quickly reached out with the paper, hoping that it was confirmation enough. There was a brief description of the task on top and he cringed when she read it. Mikasa scanned the paper twice and then handed it back to him.

"Okay."

"Okay?" Jean paused, shaking his head and clearing it. "Okay. I…great. That's. That was really easy. Actually. I thought you'd try and protest or something."

"Why?"

"Because." Jean shrugged. "Because I would have, for one." He attempted a small laugh and she didn't return it, but the corner of her mouth definitely twitched. Which was, you know, something. "I mean, it sounds nuts. We're soldiers and all, but apparently we need to build a stable. It sounds insane."

Mikasa blinked.

He thought of adding that Jaeger wouldn't be there either, but he didn't want to bring up that name right then. "You don't laugh much." Jean blushed, hoping he hadn't said the wrong thing.

"I don't laugh at all." Mikasa said finally. She had sat quietly before answering, her fingers working over the fabric of her scarf.

"Never?"

Mikasa looked up suddenly, her eyebrows drawing together. "When I was little, yes. But not since. And…I don't really remember what it was like, just that I did."

"Oh. Well, that's kind a…it's kinda…" Jean offered her a sincere smile. "That's really shitty, I'm not even going to lie."

He stuffed his hands in his pockets, feeling at ease talking to her. Which was strange, but he was totally going to roll with it.

"It's not easy to laugh." She continued, her eyes turning down. "In this world."

She seemed small just then. Tiny. Young. She wasn't much older than he was, to not remember laughter.

"I can understand that. Before training, I'd never really considered much about our situation. Humanity and all that. I mean, yeah I knew about it, but that stuff seemed so far from home. So distant. I was in Trost so the outside world was beyond imagining. Then the first wall was breached and it made things stir, but only in a vague sense. There was the food shortage, everyone felt that, but the idea of this great menace to humanity, the real terror that all those refugees felt, all that was lost on a kid like me." He paused and considered if he should continue. Mikasa's eyes were focused on him, not hint of a frown or other discouraging look.

"So, I used to laugh all the time. So much that I know what I'm missing. But you're right. It's harder now. There's not much humor in…all this bull shit." He stepped closer, shoulders hiking up to his ears. "Still. We should all laugh more. If only to keep our sanity."

Mikasa was staring at him, her eyes drawing him in, her gaze hanging on his words like she cared about what he was saying. He swallowed awkwardly and smiled.

"I'm sure you're right." Mikasa whispered. "But I don't think I even remember how."

"Hey. It's not hard." He took another step toward her, looking down as she sat on her bench. His heart started to race. Elation swelled in his chest. "It'd help you to smile first."

Her lip quirked, just barely, at the corner. It stole his breath. Her cheeks were glowing, her eyes so many shades from grey to black, her pink lips were starting to curve upward, and for a second, the world melted and faded, and there was nothing more important than the twinkle sparkling in her eyes and the almost half smile that she was trying so hard to give him. Him. _For_ him. Jean was in awe, for the first time in his life, truly in awe.

"Mikasa, I'm done with—Oh. What're you doing here, Jean?" Eren burst out of the room and extinguished the tiny flame starting to spark like the true mood killer he was. Mikasa's eyes went back to their distant glaze, bored and cold. Her lips fell into a line. Eren Fucking Jaeger.

"Just talking." Jean said quickly, trying to keep his temper restrained.

"To Mikasa? About what?"

"It's not your concern, Eren." Mikasa stood up and took Eren's sleeve in her hand. It was a tiny gesture, a protective or possessive move, he couldn't decide. "Let's go." She tugged him along and Eren started to argue with the back of her head. The two of them disappeared around a corner faster than Jean could process.

* * *

**A/N: So I know this may seem like a weird plot point? But I swear I have a plan. So if you bear with me, I hope you like it. There won't be much action for awhile, but I do have lots of angst-y action fight stuff planned for later. Thank you for all the reviews and follows and favorites. Thank you for reading and hope you enjoy what's to come. ^_^**

**Note: Armin's placement with Hanji's squad is a borrowed idea from Confusedcius author of "The Long Road." It's worth a read. :)**


	5. Chapter 5

five

Day Six.

Jean thought fondly of the days when he could sleep for a full night. Now, he was thankful to get to bed with five hours until roll call. After nearly a week of working they hadn't made the progress he had hoped for. Wagner's deadline was two weeks, but that sure as shit wasn't going to happen.

Croft was the only one with any real building experience, but he never opened his mouth. Not around the girls, anyway. They had gathered up lumber, smoothed it down, and cut it into useable pieces. There was now a frame and a foundation, but the more they added the more complicated it became. Every piece had to be measured perfectly or it wouldn't fit. Part of the roof had to be torn down so they could add the stall door frame they should have started with.

The project would eventually be complete, but it was not going to be pretty. Their inexperience was already showing. The proportions were off and part of the frame was slanted.

The worst of everything, by far, was not with the work and how horrible a job they seemed to be doing. But the incessant bickering and uncooperative attitudes. Jean hoped for cooperation with his team. He wanted things to go smoothly and while they didn't have to like him, they still had to listen to him. It would be better if they could listen with a smile, but he wasn't going to force the issue. As long as they listened at all.

To keep his promise that everyone ends their work day by 15:00, Jean had to work alone at night. It was his punishment, after all. He might as well be the one suffering for it. It was growing dark outside. Everyone was pushing toward the mess hall for dinner. He would have to come back later to keep working, but he still needed to eat.

Amber had started eating most of her meals next to him. He would grab his food, weary and covered in saw dust, and sit alone. Amber would greet him with a friendly smile and sit herself down without asking. While Jean's eyes were, more than ever before, always looking for Mikasa in a room, Amber was often sitting next to him chatting amicably to his shoulder. She was short and slight in frame, but could be loud in personality. She was both intuitive and playful. There was always a deck of cards in her pocket. Jean hadn't ever played, but Amber claimed that teaching was half the fun.

"Don't raise, what have I been saying?" Amber held up her hand to him over their half eaten dinner. Her grin was wide enough to show the gap on the right side of her front teeth. "See what I've got. This beats you easy and you'd be all out of money if you raise. Let me see your cards again."

He handed them to her. His interest in these games was marginal, but she played with such passion it was hard not to enjoy it.

"Jean. _Jean_. What're you doing to me? This is a terrible hand. You've got nothing. And you can't bluff for shit." She gathered up the cards and shuffled them deftly. "You play like this and people are going to take advantage. Now. Again." She licked her finger and started to deal.

"I think I'll sit this one out." He spooned his cold food into his mouth, swallowing quickly so it didn't linger.

Amber shrugged and collected the cards before cutting the deck and shuffling through a couple times. She shuffled cards the way Croft would crack his knuckles, almost an absentminded habit. "You don't like playing, do you?"

"I never said that."

She rolled her eyes. "Whatever. It's fine if you don't. I'm thinking of getting Tomika to play with me. Then I can hit her up for everything she's got." There was a glimmer of malice in Amber's eyes. "That fucking loud mouth will owe me until she's fifty."

Jean sighed, scratching at his forehead. "Just keep it civil while we're working together." He'd been on the receiving end of anti-Tomika rants for days now.

"It's not me. It's her. I'm not the only one with the problem; they all have something to say." She pushed her spiky bangs from her forehead. Amber's hair was light brown strands of wanton layers, the longest pieces just reaching her chin.

"It's all of you." He snapped. "All your bickering is slowing us down. This is my ass on the line here. You guys can't just…suck it up for a few hours a day?"

Jean had been speaking more to himself than for her to actually answer. He heard her move next to him and her impish smirk was now a calm frown. "You're the leader right? You're in charge?"

"Yeah?"

"Then fix the problem." She pushed her finger into his forehead. "You keep complaining about no one working together, well you better fix that if you want it to stop."

Jean rubbed his forehead, annoyed. "_You're_ the one complaining about her—"

"Yeah, but I'm not in charge here, you are. It's not my job to make this group work together." She stood up, hand flat on the table as she used the small height advantage standing gave her to look down at him. "Do I have to spell it out for you? Damnit, it's like you're smart except for when you're stupid."

Their conversation was brought up short when Mikasa set down her own plate at their table. "Do you mind if I sit?"

"Not at all." Amber said with a wry smile.

Jean forced his mouth closed and avoided Amber's eyes. Amber tapped her fingers on the table as silence fell and Mikasa began to eat with apathetic ignorance of Jean's squirming. She laughed with a shake of her head.

"I'll, uh, make myself scarce. Night, Kirstein." She tapped the top of his head with her knuckles as she walked past, and was smirking as she tucked her hands in her pockets and left the mess hall.

Mikasa's eyes were forward as she lifted each bite, chewed, swallowed, then took another. Jean followed her hands, while trying to keep his attention elsewhere. He didn't know if she expected conversation or not and he wrestled with how to approach the draining silence.

"Amber was right." Mikasa said finally, not looking anywhere but forward.

"You heard her?" He groaned.

"She was loud." Mikasa set down her spoon. "But she's right. If you're supposed to be the leader, you are the one that has to get them to cooperate."

"I get that. I just…" She was looking at him now, head slightly tilted. His nerves didn't hit him, or make him stutter over his words. "I just don't really know how."

She nodded. "I'm sorry that I don't have anything useful to add. But I think…I think you could figure it out."

"Yeah?" He tried to keep from grinning, but it lit his face regardless.

Mikasa considered him for a moment before tucking her hair back and looking at her plate. "I think so."

He didn't question why she had decided to sit with him. It was as strange as when she had held his hand while walking back to HQ. It was easier to talk to her now. Though his heart still jumped when he saw her without warning, or when their eyes met, but talking was definitely easier. Now he could get through a conversation without looking like an idiot.

-oOo-

Day Eight.

His face was definitely sun burnt. He could feel the tender peeling skin on his nose and winced every time he emoted. It was starting to itch, too. It was the worst kind of hell that he could think of nothing but scratching his face but knowing that if he did it would feel no different than running a grater over his skin.

"You shouldn't scratch."

Jean jumped from his seat, spinning to see Croft was now behind him. For such a thickly built kid, the guy was quiet as hell when he walked. "Yeah, I get that. But it itches like a fucking bitch."

"Here." Croft tossed him a small container. Whatever was inside was a wrong shade of green.

"Thanks, man. Uh…what is it?"

"Put it on your face. It'll help."

Jean removed the lid and sniffed. "Whoa." He held it arms length. "It, uh, smells…interesting. What's in it?"

"Just use it." Croft looked down. "Sorry. I…just trust me. It'll help."

"Okay…thanks." Jean stuck two fingers into the thick slime and held them in front of his face. He cringed. He didn't figure Croft as the herbalist type. There weren't a lot of people in their position that were. Jean had heard a rumor about Renford's mother being good with plants and mixtures which had gotten him into some trouble a while back, but the rumors all varied so Jean wasn't sure what could be believed. But Croft had always simple. Jean had been working with him for awhile, over a week, and he hadn't really thought Croft as the type to surprise.

Croft was watching him which added pressure for Jean to act. It took a few seconds mental preparation, but when Jean finally touched the paste to his face the cooling was instant. He sighed. "Shit, that feels amazing." His face was covered in green paste in seconds. "_So_ amazing."

Croft nodded. "It's a home remedy. We've got light skin and ingredients were never hard to come by and…well anyway. Used it a lot growing up. To help with burning."

Jean could feel the paste sliding down his face, but he didn't care. He finally felt relief. "Can I keep this?"

"Yeah, I had made it for myself, but…you looked like you needed it more. I can make it…It's not hard." Croft drifted into awkward easily. If there were a girl near them, he'd calm up and not say more than a nod.

"So you know about tools and building and now this?" Jean slapped his shoulder. "Seems like I'd be lost without you."

"Not lost. You'd've figured it out. You…" He looked away. "You're all smart enough."

"Smart enough?" Jean laughed. "I'm pretty sure I nailed my shirt to a post."

Croft was blushing now and his eyes were averted. "Look, I appreciate you saying that, but…bottom line is I know what my use is here. I'm good for muscle. I'm strong. Knowing a few things 'bout hammers and nails ain…_isn't_ anything fancy."

"Is that why you're always quiet?"

Croft's reaction was answer enough. He didn't carry himself with confidence. He never offered information. It wasn't a hard puzzle to put together. "Not always good at saying the right things. It makes people laugh and…I'd rather not give them the ammunition."

"Yeah? Well, I'm terrible at saying the right thing, doesn't stop me." Jean's shoulders were lifted proudly, even though it wasn't exactly a trait he found admirable in himself. At least he could own it. If you own it, then you don't look stupid, you just look arrogant.

"All due respect, sir, but I've always felt it made you seem like a…like an asshole." Croft took a step backward and winced.

Jean laughed. "Yeah. I suppose it can seem that way. But I'm really not. Or…I'm really not trying to be. Anyway, it doesn't matter. Cause I don't let it bother me. If someone's worth my time, it won't bother them either."

Croft scratched at his neck, looking uncomfortable. He was cracking the knuckles on his free hand over and over, more frequently as they talked. "You…sorry for saying, but you don't seem to have many friends, either, sir…"

Jean's smile vanished, replaced by a slight pout. "Okay. Okay. I see your point. I don't have many friends either. That's…uh…true I guess."

"Sorry, but what was the point in telling me this?"

"I…I don't even know anymore. I'm too depressed about being alone all the time." Jean's eyes were vacant, staring at his shoes. How did his advice manage to boomerang back and knock him right in the jaw? He was trying to make Croft feel better about himself. Now he was staring at the ground contemplating his entire life's decisions.

_Am I really that much of an asshole? Am I no better than any of these other loners? I don't try to be…but…_

He felt a heavy hand on his shoulder, nearly knocking him off balance. Croft's eyes, a simple shade of brown that always muted his expression to resigned loneliness, were looking straight at Jean as he lifted his head.

"You can call me a friend. If you want. And Amber. She's real nice about people. Sasha, too. Not sure about the others, but…three out of six is right about half."

Jean put his hand on Croft's shoulder so they were facing each other. "Three out of six. Is exactly half."

Croft smiled. "I knew that sounded right."

Jean hadn't been overly concerned with making friends. Having friends wasn't the point of his signing up for all this. But then, nothing had gone to plan. He should be holed up safe in Wall Sina, but instead he was working on barely any sleep with the looming prospect of another mission outside the walls. It had been the right decision, sure. And maybe it was good to have people like Croft and Amber who seemed to like him whether he tried or not.

Jean patted Croft's shoulder, green paste smeared over his attempt at a smile. "You're a really good person, Croft. And plenty smart." Croft looked more uncomfortable with the compliments than with the contact. Jean set his hand on Croft's other shoulder, turning him so they were face to face and he couldn't look away. "Okay? Don't ever think any less of yourself. We only live so long and if you spend that time doubting yourself, then what would have been the point?"

Croft blinked his big eyes, nodding slowly. "Alright. I guess…I can keep that in mind. Sir."

"No, damnit. Stop calling me sir."

"What do I call you?"

Jean patted the large boy's shoulders fondly. "Jean is fine, man."

"Okay."

"Sorry to interrupt…"

Both boys turned their heads, Jean's arms were still embracing Croft a bit closer than even friends might stand. His head swiveled as if it hadn't been oiled in months, a creak with every slow turn as he recognized the voice that had interrupted. Jean's entire body felt numb. His throat went dry. His ears were ringing.

Croft reluctantly opened his mouth, speaking quietly but speaking at all. "Hey, Mikasa."

Her eyes scanned the scene in front of her, but her face was as frustratingly blank as ever. Until her eyes landed on Jean's face.

"Why is your face green?" She asked.

Jean's fingers clenched on Croft's shoulders. Every muscle went rigid.

For a second everyone was silent. Mikasa waited for her answer. Croft was staring back and forth between them, confused. Jean was too horrified to move.

Until he did and then he was running in the opposite direction. He had never moved so fast in his life, he was pretty certain of that. He ran until he found the watering trough for the horses and slid on his knees to land in front of it. He caught the edge to stop himself and threw his head over the side. If he held himself under long enough, maybe he would drown and this nightmare would be forgotten.

But his lungs started to burn and he couldn't manage to hold himself down. He came up, gasping. The now watery paste oozed down his face and dripped into the water. He'd have to clean the whole thing out later.

"Jean?"

Jean stopped rubbing his face clean and stilled. She followed him. Why the hell had she followed him? He kept his back turned, desperately wiping at his face to clear it. He used his sleeves or the end of his shirt; he rubbed his face until the sunburn was aggravated again and stinging acutely. All that time he'd spent building his confidence, days and days they had to work together, a rapidly growing list of specific moments where he was _sure_ that he was doing something right with her, where his nerves had given way to casual communication and almost even confidence…all of it insubstantial now.

Mikasa walked close enough to reach him, tapping him once on the shoulder. "Jean?"

He wanted to cry.

"Y-yeah?" He didn't turn around. He would never turn around. He would never look at her again.

"You forgot this." She must have been offering him something, but he couldn't move to see.

"Just…just leave it. I'll, uh, get it in a second…" He'd come so far to once again be reduced to pathetic stammering.

He could hear her move, but he refused to look. "Croft said you needed this. I told him I could catch you first, so he let me take it. He said to use it at night then to wash it off in the morning."

Jean wanted to die. He looked at the water, wondering if he would be able to hold himself down this time. She had followed him, not out of concern or for whatever she had originally wanted, but to bring him the same _shit_ that had made him run. It couldn't get much worse than this. The fleeting urge to dunk his head dissolved into defeat.

He pushed himself upright, turning toward her but keeping his head low. He searched the ground and his boot hit the container first. He stared at it like it had betrayed him. Which, in a way, it had.

"Are you okay?" She took a step toward him, a light of concern gracing her eyes.

Jean recoiled, drawing away out of instinct because he was still beyond embarrassed.

"Your face is bleeding."

He lifted his hand to cover his cheek. "Oh." The feel of his fingers on his skin was pure agony.

Mikasa bent down and grabbed the container in that precise way she moved, the way she moved when fighting. Jean took another step back, his hand still covering his face, but she was faster than he was even trying to be. She stopped in front of him and slapped his hand away hard.

Her fingers worked off the lid and let it drop to the ground. Her eyes were firm in their resolve and it stopped him on the spot as she dipped two fingers into the paste and raised her hand to his face.

He didn't move the fear and shock—a hint of confusion—made him freeze. Where her fingers touched they were gentle. Surprisingly so. His brain had tensed at the thought of her touching his face, but her presence was soothing. It felt, even if it was mainly because of the paste smearing her fingertips, cool and blissfully relieving.

She dipped her hand back into the container a few more times, covering his cheeks and nose much more conservatively than he had done earlier. It wasn't caked onto his face this time, just a light layer to ease the pain. He looked like a petulant child with his eyes averted and scowling.

"Why did you run away?"

A dark laugh fell from his lips and she lifted her hand away from him. "Because." He glared at the ground. "I think it's obvious."

"You were embarrassed?" Sure, she wouldn't understand embarrassment. When would someone like her ever be embarrassed? She was on a completely different level than someone like him.

He didn't speak because, yes, he was very embarrassed and talking about it only made it worse.

His eyes snapped forward when she let out a breath laced with amusement. Her lips were still a straight line, but her eyes were dancing with just the barest trace of amusement. "It was funny."

Suddenly, he was released. Free. The nerves tying him down, holding him hostage, were gone. He could look at her now. He didn't want to run, he wanted to stay. Even with his face still covered in green paste.

Her eyes drifted up to meet his. "It's good to laugh, remember?"

Was she sharing a private joke with him?

Jean smiled. "Yeah. It's good to laugh."

For a second, he let the silence hold. There was a gentle pull from her eyes, which were so blatantly open and direct… He licked his lips, not out of necessity—he had just submerged his head in a trough—but out of instinct. She glanced sideways, almost shyly.

Shaking his running thoughts away, he reached out to take the container back. "Here."

Jean let his fingers graze her hands. He just wanted to feel her skin without all that muck between them. The brief contact rattled up his arm and shook him. She was still looking away, so he felt no reason _not_ to gaze at her fondly, to just appreciate how close he was to her face.

After a second he spied the lid on the grass. "Oh." He bent down, but she had bent down too and their heads collided painfully.

"Sorry." He tried not to smile, but he couldn't stop. There was laughter in his apology and he really hoped she wasn't angry.

Mikasa was holding her head, just as he was. Her eyes snapped to his face when he started chuckling lightly. She watched, but did not return the smile. Jean scooped up the lid and his laughter settled.

"Sorry. Again. Are you hurt?"

"No." She said defiantly.

He let out a breath, calm and at ease. "It's getting late." He turned toward the stables, where their work was still painfully behind schedule. "I've got…I have something to take care of."

She nodded, her shoulders going straight and her hand pulling her scarf up to her lips. "Yes. I do too."

Jean didn't know why, but it sounded like she was lying. "Okay then. I'll…see you tomorrow."

Mikasa nodded stiffly and then retreated, fast, toward the castle. He debated following her, to see if there was something wrong, but she obviously didn't want him to know about it. Jean's face finally felt better and he tucked the container into his pocket as he set off to get some after dark work in. He tried not to think about Mikasa while he walked. He tried not to think about Mikasa while he worked. Trying not to think about Mikasa was obviously impossible.

-oOo-

Day eleven.

Jean's face was back to its normal color. Overall, work was…progressing. Jean still hadn't acted on Amber's advice regarding Tomika, but her and Renford were the only two not becoming friendly with everyone else. He was putting it off in the hope that they would finish before he would need to talk to her. Honestly, he was a bit afraid of Tomika. Not that he couldn't take her in a fight, cause, he could, but more for the fact that she seemed like the kind to fight dirty. He really had no idea what she was capable of and that was intimidating.

That night after dinner, Jean didn't have the time to get some extra work in. Amber had followed him outside, shuffling her cards as she walked. Croft hadn't been far behind her and soon Sasha, Mikasa, and even Renford had wandered over into the appearance of an organized gathering. Whatever he had intended to get done that night was going to have to wait.

"Who's up for a game?" Amber kicked over an empty crate and kneeled next to it. They were outside, but close enough to the outside torches for light. They were situated next to some supplies with filled crates serving as seating. It was mostly out of sight and it was late enough that there weren't many people outside.

A look passed through the group at Amber's offer. She eyed them all with a laugh. "Oh come on, we can keep the bets simple. I don't rip off friends." She looked down suddenly, her shoulder rising to her cheeks. "Renford. You wanna play?"

Renford Arrlis was quiet, but not shy like Croft. He looked perpetually pissed off. He was tall and lean. He had a face that drew looks and admiration, but was always shadowed by his bad temper. His skin was tan, darker than anyone else there, and he had black hair that contrasted striking blue eyes. Though he never came across as conceited, he didn't go out of his way to hide his disdain for things.

He looked at Amber, with her game all set up, and let out a long sigh. "Not particularly. Thanks."

"Oh." Amber cleared her throat and raised her chin. "So. Anyone else?"

Croft raised his hand and sat down with her, earning a delighted squeak. Amber's smile was wide enough to see the gap in her teeth. She wasn't any sort of standard beauty, but she was adorable without trying to be.

"I'll play too." Sasha kneeled down and picked up her cards. "How does it work?"

Croft let out a heavy breath, looking relieved. "Yeah, I'm not sure how to play either."

"Some newbies, then. Well, I'll teach you guys first, it's not hard. Then we start making real bets."

Jean was grateful that her energy was focused on teaching someone else. He was also grateful that Mikasa had followed them outside and was now just a couple crates away. Clearing his throat, he changed seats so there was only one crate between them now.

He didn't want to question why she had been choosing to spend so much time away from Eren. He wasn't exactly sure what was going on there. If she was avoiding Eren or if this was time she would normally spend alone. Jean wanted to know, for his own sake, but it never seemed like the right thing to talk about.

The first round of cards had barely begun when there was a voice 'psst-ing' from behind Jean's shoulder. He turned around to see Connie, who was showing up more and more frequently while they worked.

"What is it, Springer? Why're you hiding back there?"

"Keep it down, man. It's for secrecy, duh." Connie shook his head, but continued. "I saw you guys out here and thought it'd be cool if I joined? I, uh, snagged some drinks."

"Drinks?" Jean raised an eyebrow, earning a frustrated groan from Connie.

"Yeah, man. Drinks. You know. The kind that's highly regulated and not normally given to low levels like us? Drinks."

Jean glanced over his shoulder, but no one seemed to be listening. He spun to face Connie fully, glaring. "You trying to get us all into trouble? I can't have them drinking when they're not supposed to, it'll just come back to fuck me over."

"Come on. You can't be serious? What am I gonna do with all this?" Connie lifted his coat and there were two full bottles under each arm. "Let them have a bit of fun, Jean."

"You've been spending too much time with Sasha." Jean growled, keeping his voice low.

Connie rolled his eyes. "_Yeah_. That's the point."

For a second, Jean didn't understand. Then it clicked and he smacked his forehead. "I'm so blind."

"It's all good. Just let me join you guys and get some cups so I can pour this and it won't look suspicious." Connie was bouncing on his feet, shifting from side to side.

"You _already_ look suspicious."

"Whatever. You letting me join or what?"

Mikasa's breath hit Jean's ear. She was leaning next to him, obviously moving closer to her meant she was close enough to hear him. He felt her shoulder brush his as she pushed him over.

"You should let him." She said.

Jean glanced at her, cheeks burning but otherwise his nerves were under control. "You think this is a good idea?"

She shrugged. "I want to try some."

"Really?" Jean shook his head, feeling like he had been overruled. He couldn't say no _now_. "Fine. I'll get some cups to pour it into…just…leave it back there until I get back."

"You're the best." Connie laid the bottles on their sides so they were obscured by the grass and sauntered out of hiding. He crossed straight to the empty seat beside Sasha and landed smoothly next to her. She didn't spare him a look as she focused on the cards in her hands.

Jean returned with the cups, the few he could spare, and found no protest when he returned. Even Croft had shrugged the whole thing off and accepted the drink without argument. Jean took his own cup, though his experience with drinking was very marginal, he had done it before. He offered Mikasa her cup and leaned next to her.

She took it and stared down into the mug.

"It's not that bad. Just…don't drink it fast or have too much. Okay?" He had given the order to everyone not to get stupid with things, but Amber had already downed a glass with a small trickle of excess flowing down her chin. Whatever. As long as they kept everything contained. He designated himself the sober supervisor so they could enjoy themselves. After all, each one of them had helped him with this ridiculous task they earned a bit of fun as far as he was concerned.

"You've tried this before?" Mikasa asked.

He shrugged. "Yeah. A couple times. Stupid kids with nothing better to do. You know?"

"No." She replied flatly. She took a sip and closed her eyes. "It doesn't taste very good."

Jean chuckled, looking at the slight pursing of her lips as she licked them. "Most people don't drink it for the taste."

She took another sip. Jean barely touched his own cup, sipping slowly, mostly just wetting his lips to keep up appearances.

The card game was now a mess. Croft was swaying in his seat, his eyes glazed and sporting a content grin. Sasha seemed immune. She'd finished off three cups by then and was as steady and level headed as she normally was. All that bread must have absorbed it for her. Connie was a wreck beside her, hiccupping and falling all over her while she laughed at his incoherent babbling.

Renford was still on his first cup, nursing it slowly and standing off to the side, away from everyone but not alone. Amber was eyeing him with obvious consideration. Jean hadn't quite noticed that before, either. How she blushed or smiled when he was close to her. Renford didn't spare her even a suggestion of interest. Maybe he was trying to avoid a problem or maybe he just didn't notice.

"I can feel it in my fingers." Mikasa held out her hand, her cheeks tinted pink and her lips were more reckless in their shape, not always a firm line but sometimes a smirk or frown. "And here." She pointed to her forehead.

"You should probably stop, then." Jean reached out to take her cup, but she caught his wrist and pulled him in.

"I will stop after this." She whispered. His jaw fell open and his senses were momentarily jarred.

She had let him go almost instantly, but he couldn't shake the presence of her breath on his neck. She didn't have to fucking try and he was working himself up. Heart and lungs responding to the low tone of her half drunk voice.

Jean wasn't willing to say no to her, so he let her finish. He wasn't just responsible for her, anyway. The entire group was his responsibility. Except, maybe Connie, but he was now snoring in Sasha's lap. Croft and Sasha were the only two still keeping the card game going. They were across from each other and had clearly abandoned the rules. They threw down cards and each claimed that they were winning.

For a second, Jean panicked when he couldn't find Amber. If she wandered off and got caught, they would all be in trouble. She came stumbling into view after a second, giggling to herself. She was close to them, leaning into Jean's shoulder with a grin.

"You two are so cute." She laughed into her hand, pointing at Mikasa and then at him. "Adorable."

"I think you've had enough." He took the drink from Amber's hand, drawing out a pout of protest.

She recovered what grace she could and stood straight, licking her lips. "You're probably right." She ran her fingers through her hair and fluffed out all the errant strands. "I'm gonna kiss him."

"What?" Jean had only just set her drink down. "Who?"

Her shoulders moved with a suggestion that Jean didn't want to picture on her, it felt wrong. She licked her lips. "Yeah. I'm gonna do it."

"Amber, wait…" He tried to grab her hand but she pushed straight through his grip and placed herself boot to boot with Renford.

Renford looked down, his eyebrows raised in confusion. Jean tried to reach her, but it was too late. She grabbed the lapels of Renford's jacket and forced him down to her height. She hadn't even tried to stand on her toes and he was bent awkwardly in her hands. His eyes went wide and for once he didn't look scorned.

The entire group went quiet at the loud sucking sounds of Amber's lips. Her hands went up the back of his head, ruffling up his hair, working up over the top of his head like she wanted to feel every strand before she had to stop. Renford didn't push her away, though he did nothing but stare at her face and hold his arms out awkwardly.

Every mouth was gaping by the time Amber released him. She let him go with a push and he went reeling backward, catching himself on the post that had lit their unconventional gathering. His eyes had not decreased in size or in astonishment as she panted and then left. Not a word, just…left.

Renford swallowed, staring into space without the slightest care that he was the center of attention. Everyone was hanging on his reaction, waiting for him to do something other than stand there.

When he lifted his fingers to his mouth, grazing gently, he snapped back to reality. With a blink he was catching the glances aimed at him. Even with his darker complexion, his instant blush was obvious. He lowered his head and ran back to the castle.

It wasn't long after that everyone decided to turn in. Croft offered to help Connie to his room, since Sasha wasn't allowed. In the end, he had to carry him. They poured out what was left in the last bottle and Jean had tossed the empty bottles with the rest of the trash. No one would notice two more. He waited for Mikasa, the two of them the last to leave.

Mikasa watched each step she took, lifting her feet slow and steady. She seemed angry that she did not have the control she normally had over herself. He offered her his hand.

She grasped his fingers, pinching in a way that was less romantic and more painful.

"Why do people do this to themselves? I can barely walk. I'm shaking all over. I hate it. I hate feeling like this. I can't…I can't think right."

"It's okay." He soothed. He caught her as she stumbled. "It's okay. I'll get you to your room and you can sleep it off. When you wake up, you'll feel better. I promise. Though…maybe expect a headache."

Mikasa growled at the mention of waking up to a headache. She was now mostly leaning on him, her weight sagging into his arms. Jean could smell her hair, smell _her_ even under the alcohol. He debated lifting her completely off the ground, but he didn't want to take that initiative when it might piss her off more than anything else.

The castle halls were quiet and still and they tried to not to disturb it. Mikasa kept touching her lips with her fingers, running the tip of her forefinger around and around. It was distracting. Force was necessary to keep from staring at her mouth. Their shuffling steps were enhanced by the silence, but there was nothing he could do about it.

When they reached the girl's hallway Jean hesitated. He wasn't sure if he should continue, but Mikasa was still clinging to him, frowning and pouting and otherwise working her face into emotions he'd never seen her wear.

"Let's just…let's just be really quiet." He whispered. She nodded.

He was relying on Mikasa to tell him which door was hers. He didn't know who she shared with, but he desperately hoped they were sleeping. Turning the handle slowly, he cracked the door open and peeked inside. There wasn't any light or sound so he carefully pushed the door with his back while helping Mikasa through.

The girl in the occupied bed was blonde, but her back was turned and he couldn't see her face. Mikasa fell onto her bed and put her head in her hands.

"Ugh." She groaned, holding it before scratching at her face. She was mercifully quiet, but Jean glanced over his shoulder anyway.

"I'm sorry, Mikasa. I really can't stay." He wanted to. More than anything he wanted to stay. If she asked he might not have it in him to say no. "You'll be okay. Lay down and—"

Mikasa lifted her head, her fingers once again tracing around her lips. "Do you think he liked it?"

Jean cursed silently. This was not the time for a talk. He stepped closer, eyes checking that her roommate was still asleep. "Who?"

"Renford. When she kissed him like that. Do you think he…_liked_ it?" Her eyes were large and so open and just…he crouched next to her, whispering.

"He didn't look like he hated it." Jean said. He glanced at her face carefully. The situation was more intimate than he wanted to admit.

"I see." Her lips parted and the tip of her finger slipped inside, drawing a light flick of her tongue.

Jean shuddered, fighting to keep his arousal from becoming obvious. He bit the side of his cheek when she absently pulled her finger away and moisture clung to her lips, her eyes were vacant and he assumed she had no idea what she was doing to him. In the dark. Sitting on her bed. Talking about kissing while she played with her mouth. _Shiiit_. He was losing it quickly.

"I g-gotta go. I really should _not_ stay here."

She locked eyes and halted him from acting on his words. "Do people like kissing?"

Jean swallowed. His throat was dry. He felt his palms growing sweaty. "Uh, sure. I guess." He wouldn't exactly know from experience. The only kiss he'd ever had hardly counted. He'd been too young and it was over before he could even feel anything. But he was pretty confident that it felt good and that people liked it.

"Hm." She kissed the tip of her finger.

Wait. Was she planning on kissing someone now? All these questions about it and the way she was playing with her lips like she was curious. Wishful thinking had him considering that maybe…he was a definite possibility for this…new curiosity.

It was possible. Very possible. He was sitting right there next to her bed. All she had to do was reach out or ask or raise her head. Anything. Anything at all. The chance that she might was real…though a part of him didn't like the idea of her being drunk for it. Obviously, if anything were to happen, he'd have to stop it. Obviously.

Her eyes were beginning to close and he began to accept that nothing was going to happen after all. Not that he wasn't grinning stupidly anyway. He mouthed 'night, Mikasa' before beginning to crawl backwards.

"Wait." She turned on her side and her fingers pinched the cuff of his sleeve. She still looked drowsy and her eyes weren't quite focused. The hand holding him fought with his sleeve to reach his wrist, her fingers gently grazing over skin. "It's different with Eren." She murmured.

He never hated the sound of a name so venomously. Because the way she said his name sounded the way he felt saying hers. There was so much in her tone, more than anything you could see, that when she said Eren's name it was not a name she regarded lightly. There was history in the weight of it and adoration in the inflection. Jean didn't know anything about their past, but he could hear a glimpse of it when Mikasa said his name.

And it was just a fact that the higher you were, the harder you fell. He'd never been more hopeful than in that moment and the loss of it so suddenly was devastating.

"You should get some sleep." He gently moved her hand off his wrist. There would always be a name between them. There would always be Eren. And Jean hated him in that moment. Truly and completely loathed him. Even if he understood that no one was really at fault because he _knew_ just how impossible feelings were to control.

"Thank you, Jean." Her voice was low and he almost missed it as he turned around to leave, but he didn't look back. There was no grand emotion in the sound of his name. There was nothing. Just casual gratitude. If he could ask for anything, if he could hope for one thing, it would be to just once hear her say his name and mean it.

He shut the door carefully. The hallway was empty, but he still ran to be clear of it. Once he was near his own door he stopped and let his pace lapse into a walk. In the end, he had to accept that his place would never be romantic for Mikasa. But that didn't change what had happened over the past couple weeks.

He was glad to be a friend to her. Just friends was fine…or, maybe it was just good enough. But these things pass. Feelings pass. They don't torment you forever. That'd be silly. To hold onto someone that would never want you? If that happened then half the world would be as miserable as he was. And this whole attraction thing. It was random. Mikasa wasn't the only attractive girl in the world. Just the only one that could make his stomach twist with a single look.

Definitely. He was sure of it. This couldn't last forever. Being friends with the woman he was clearly enamored with was totally going to work out fine. He'd just play it cool until these feelings blew over. He had over half a decade dealing with them, letting himself fall further and further into this one sided bull shit, its end _had_ to be soon. Jean fell backward onto his bed and tried to fall asleep.

Mikasa was just a phase. He'd move on. When _she_ was finally moving on to making out with Jaeger in the halls or holding Eren's hand, when her affections started to pan out in her favor, the force of it would wake him up. The…horrible…disturbing…devastating reality of it…

He covered his face in his hands.

_I'm so fucked._

* * *

**A/N: First, I'm sorry this took so long to get out. Had to fight with getting this thing together. I hope you enjoyed reading. A big thank you to Confusedcius and machiavelie for beta reading this. **


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Okay, I told myself I would finish a chapter for every Sunday. (Well, before going to sleep on Sunday) I had to really fight for this, but I did it. Please forgive any mistakes. I might do another read through in the morning, just to be safe, but I wanted to meet the deadline. Hope you like it.**

six

"Your two weeks has come and gone. What do you have to show for it?"

Jean forced his eyes to the ground. If he looked up, if he made eye contact, then he would speak.

"You're nearly finished, but nearly isn't want I asked for. Three weeks, Kirstein. It's taken you three weeks to get to almost done. What does that lead me to think?"

He ground his teeth together, fists clenched at his side. He was standing at ease in one of the offices. Wagner didn't have a permanent office of his own, so he used a room with a desk and some chairs that had no claim to it. Since it had no real owner, it was sparsely decorated. The desk was mostly bare and there were a few shelves with pre-stacked books for appearances. Jean figured that so little attention had gone into stocking the shelves that they had allowed titles like Journeys into Beehives and "Birth: A Collection of Poems by Allen Harker."

Wagner sat behind the desk with a tea cup steaming in his hand. It pissed Jean off to no end.

"I'm sure I don't know. Sir."

The older officer sighed, sipped at his drink casually, and stared at Jean with steady blue eyes. "Well, what is the problem? What do you see as a proper excuse for not being done?"

"An excuse?" Jean's eyes shot forward, his mouth fell open at the insinuation. He took offense to the question, as if this guy really thought that Jean would start naming off some rationalizations as to why he had failed. "Do you _want_ me to list them for you? That's it, isn't it? You want me to start rattling off reasons that place the blame on anyone or anything but myself. But I don't have any." Jean took a bit of satisfaction when the man's countenance faltered a fraction. "There are no excuses. I couldn't finish on time. Period."

"So you accept full responsibility?"

"That's what I just said—" Jean took in a deep breath through his nose. "Yes. I accept full responsibility."

"And for those under your command in this task? What do I do with them?"

Jean blinked, his tone was more wary when he answered. Less confident since he did not know what the point of the question could be. "If I'm in charge of them, then shouldn't that be left up to me?"

"And I am in charge of you."

This old fuck was being cryptic. Was he trying to get Jean to snap? To lose his patience and go off? Well, he was getting pretty damn close. Or was this part of the lesson? Like the whole task of building that damn stable wasn't enough of a hint. It was probably a bit of both. "So what then. You going to make us build you a barn now? Why not the whole farm?"

So much for holding his tongue. Jean kept his gaze direct, but he worried that he had just spoken out of turn again. He had to go and be sarcastic. He just had to.

"You're getting ahead of yourself, you haven't even finished the first task I gave you. Now. If you're done letting your damn temper drain out of your mouth, then I'll continue."

Jean stayed silent. Though he tasted blood as he bit into his tongue.

"The problem, as I've witnessed, is you are not utilizing your team efficiently. Do you agree?"

"Do you want me to answer that?"

Wagner laughed, irking Jean further. "I asked, didn't I?"

"Then I don't. I disagree completely. None of us know what we're doing, but they're all trying. They're all working their strengths to the best of their ability. Like I said, any fault you have is with me. Not them."

"Which is exactly my point. _You _are the one at fault." Wagner set his drink down, lacing his fingers together on the desk. "You're mostly accurate, but not entirely. You've gained the loyalty, or the obedience I should say, of _most_ of your team. There is still someone lagging behind, slowing down the others, causing friction."

"It's not the reason for me not finishing."

"You're wrong. She is most of the reason. Your plan with her is to what? Push her aside until you don't have to deal with her anymore? Are you afraid of her?"

"No." He snapped more harshly than he should have and looked at his boots. "No."

"Then are you just lazy?"

"I'm doing exactly what you asked me. As long as I'm working, what does it matter? This whole thing is bull shit politics, right? You're trying to prove some point because I happened to call you out when you did something wrong, right? So what does Tomika or any of them matter?"

Wagner took a deep breath. He pushed his chair back and crossed the room to stand in Jean's face. His tone was low enough to be threatening. "You have two days. I will not offer you another extension."

Jean's eyes slid off Wagner's face and onto the wall over his shoulder. Once Wagner had given his new deadline, he walked toward the door and Jean listened to his footsteps receding into silence. He didn't move until it was completely quiet.

"Fuck that asshole."

Jean spun on his heel and marched through the door. His foot lashed out at the closest thing to him, an end table flying upside down and crashing awkwardly against a wall. Thankfully it had been empty. With a deep breath in he picked it up and stood it back upright. It wobbled when he put pressure on it, but he didn't have it in him to care. His heels thundered over the stone as he took off in a direction, any he wasn't picky. He just wanted to walk until his head felt clearer.

Every night Jean would stay out late, working long after everyone else was asleep, to make up the difference in their progress. It felt like a waste now. A wasted effort for a stupid task. And Tomika. Tomika had a hostile, vulgar way of dealing with everyone, but she openly loathed Jean. It had just happened one day without any understood cause. She just started to hate him. Really _really_ hate him. The only one that Tomika was even mildly civil with—by civil that meant she didn't talk to—was Mikasa. He had given up trying to figure out Tomika's reasons and just let her be. He said he wasn't afraid of her, and that was mostly true. She looked like the kind of girl to play dirty. He had no clue what she was capable of and that made her intimidating.

"Jean? Hey, Jean. Wait."

Amber caught his shoulder and he stopped walking. He had no idea where he was and no memory of getting there.

"What is it, Amber?"

"Whoa, what did I do?" Her brow creased for half a second, before she was shaking her head and grabbing at him with urgency. "Never mind. Just come with me. There's a situation."

"What situation?" She pulled him along, but he was holding back.

"Um…" She bit her lip.

"Amber. What happened?" She slowed and he matched her pace. _What now?_

"It's not my fault. Okay? Or Renford's. I just…"

"Just tell me what happened."

"Tomika punched Renford and now they're fighting and there's a pretty big crowd growing and if you don't break them up they're going to catch someone important's attention and that's all I know I'm sorry." She sucked in a quick breath when she finished. They stopped walking just outside a small crowd of people and Jean pushed his way through.

The group around the two brawlers chanted with a mixture of encouragement and feeble cries for order. When Jean broke through he saw Tomika on Renford's back, pulling him by the arms and kneeling between his shoulder blades. There was blood dripping from her nose and her ponytail had fallen loose. Jean seized the back of her jacket and hauled her upright, tossing her back with all his strength. The crowd parted as Tomika fell, hitting the ground and knocking the back of her head on a table.

Renford pushed himself upright and leapt for her, fist raised, but Jean caught his arm. Renford was already tired and winded, his lip was split in the corner and his eye was red and puffy. His eyes locked with Jean's and for a second he held his stance, possibly considering taking on Jean as well. In the end, he let his arm fall. Amber rushed to him, but Renford's attention was solely on Tomika.

"Sorry." Renford was addressing Jean and he swiped at his lips with the back of his hand. "I didn't mean for things to get out of hand."

"Obviously that worked out well for you." Jean said.

"We're both at fault. Whatever you want to do just…make sure you do it to both of us." Amber caught Renford's hand and she began to clean it of blood.

Jean looked down at Tomika. She sucked in the blood from her nose, hacked, and spit onto the floor at his feet. More blood leaked down over her top lip.

"So. What're you going to do?" Tomika used the table to help herself stand. "Come on, _leader_. Make the fucking call or let us go."

He didn't know if it was the sound of her voice. Her tone. The conversation he had just had with Wagner. Probably a little mix of everything. But fuck her.

"Renford." Jean stared straight into Tomika's eyes, accepting her contempt and throwing it right back. "You're free to go."

"Sir? It was both of us…really—"

"I said go." Jean's lip twitched into snarky grin.

"Just come on. He said we can go." Amber pulled Renford's arm, but Jean was just waiting for both of them to leave. The fight had started in the mess hall, but it was empty now. There weren't any diners left this late at night. Tomika glanced at the exits, her eyes low and cautious. She sized him up, her defenses raised.

"Alright. Say what you have to and—"

"_Stop_. Just, shut up. Fuck."

She shut her mouth, bottom lip jutted.

Jean sighed. "I've tried just ignoring you, but that's not going to work anymore. Whatever problem you have with me, you've got to suck it up. I don't care what you do on your free time, but during the day you've got to listen to me. You've got to work with people and you've got to do it without making everyone want to punch you."

"Or what?"

"Or, when this is over, I'll be sure to put your name in with Captain Levi. He wasn't too happy with you last I heard, so I'm sure you've been happy to coast out of his radar. I'll recommend you to every assignment or task that I can think of, the worst fucking jobs. You can stick it out with me for another two days or I will ruin every day afterward that I can."

He still held no real power over her. She wasn't threatened, but she was considering him. Whether he could make her life hell later was questionable, but he would try. He would do it just to piss her off. It occurred to him that he was on the very edge of starting a war. Tomika wouldn't take the looming threat idly. Every step he took toward screwing her over, she would throw right back at him. There was every chance that he was risking his future peace of mind on this moment.

"Hate me all you want." Jean continued. "I don't care how you feel about me. Just keep it to yourself for two days and then I don't give a shit what you do."

"I don't like you."

Jean wanted to laugh. "Yeah. I noticed."

She stuffed her hands into her pockets and started walking, passing by Jean without a look.

"I'm not bluffing." Jean kept his back to her, fists shaking.

"I get it. But I make no promises. We'll see how I feel at the time. Two days. You'll get effort for those two days. After that I'll be glad to be rid of you."

He considered leaving it alone, but he spun around and called her to stop one last time.

"Why though? What did I do to you?"

Tomika shook her head. "You did nothing to me." She paused, glancing over her shoulder with a murder in her eyes. "Let's just say you remind me of some of the worst people I've ever known. Cause you're just like them."

She was gone before he could ask anything else.

It was an answer, but he wished he never asked.

-oOo-

Jean worked until he was ready to fall over. It was well into the night; morning couldn't have been far away. But tomorrow was his last day and he was not going to fail again. The night was cool, but he was sweating when he began to doze. His balance faltered and he swayed too far, falling to the ground to smack his head hard on the grass.

"Gah, fuck." He pressed his palm at the epicenter of the pain and cringed. His muscles tensed while he waited for the pangs of stinging to subside.

With his hand still cradling the side of his head, he determined the best tactical decision was to get some sleep. He was not going to die working on some bull shit punishment.

His pace was sluggish, his boots shuffling through the dirt. He yawned and could feel the burn behind his eyes. Forget changing or washing the dust from his hair and clothes, he was going to collapse into his bed. He was almost back, nearly to the door when his eyes fell over a shadowy profile that stopped him dead.

She sat on the far side of one of the stone walls, out of the light. It was pure chance that he noticed her silhouette in the midst of the darker shadows. All he wanted was to sleep. But there was no chance of him getting any now. If there was any question regarding how he felt about Mikasa Ackerman his immediate, impulsive change of course was answer enough.

Mikasa was watching the sky, the stars off in the distance above the horizon of tree tops. The moon was still bright overhead, even with the growing swirl of dark clouds. Now that he was closer the moonlight took the place of torchlight and she was no longer draped in shadow.

Her posture was withdrawn. Her countenance was neutral and relaxed. She would have seemed at peace but for the glistening on her cheeks.

"Mikasa?" He spoke softly, not wanting to startle her. Her thoughts must have been very far away because she jumped at the sound of his voice, but relaxed with a sigh when she recognized him.

She let her tears flow freely. Not sobbing or choking on them just…silently sad.

Jean slid to the ground beside her, his back to the wall. He raked his fingers through the grass as he searched her left hand. It had become habit. He didn't even think about it anymore. And every time he was surprised to see the improvised ring still around her index finger.

The shine on her cheeks was a devastating combination with how radiant she looked illuminated by the night sky. He hated that she was crying. Even when she could wear sadness with such grace, he hated it. It wasn't out of pity, or the rush of protectiveness that accompanied seeing her tears, it was that she seemed so resigned. Even in her sorrow, she was strong. He hated that more than anything else. If anyone deserved to be weak every now and then, it was her. The fact that she wouldn't, or couldn't, made him irrationally frustrated.

He pulled the end of his sleeve, working his arm inside so the end was loose, and offered it to her. It was not the grandest of gestures. He was never very good at comfort.

"Here. I won't look." He turned his head. After a second, he felt the light tug of her grip. The cloth tickled with the movement and he blushed. There was no particular reason for it except that her acceptance of his gesture was satisfying. Once, she might have rejected any sort of foreign attention. Now, he was not so foreign.

"Thank you." She whispered.

"No problem." He turned his head back, but she was looking up. "You…uh, wanna talk about it?"

Mikasa played with the end of her scarf. She never let herself look vulnerable. Not ever. When she spoke, her voice was still quiet. He had to lean closer to hear her.

"I don't think you would want to."

Jean smiled kindly. "Hey. I can handle anything. Try me."

Mikasa's lip twitched and Jean embraced the thrill of Mikasa Ackerman almost smiling for him. If his excitement was showing clearly on his face, he didn't care. There was no version of his fantasies that could compare to how good it felt just to be there for her. That she was comfortable enough with him to allow it. If this was all they would ever have, he really could be okay with that. She was an amazing person. He counted himself lucky just to know her.

She let go of her legs, sitting upright with her palms in the grass.

"Come on, Mikasa." He urged her gently, not wanting to pressure her but wanting her confidence.

She eyed him sideways, meeting his eyes with apology and defiance.

He cleared his throat, understanding. "It's about Jaeger." He fought with his inflection, hoping to sound casual. His fingers yanked a fistful of grass from their roots. They had gone all this time without mentioning Eren. He had avoided the topic with everything he could. Now he was the one to bring it up.

Her eyes snapped over him, lashing out while her words were calm. "This conflict between you two is ridiculous. You're both too stubborn and irrational."

Jean clamped his mouth shut to keep from speaking.

"If you weren't such hot tempered jerks, you might even be friends." She sighed. "You both need to grow up."

He let the grass fall through his fingers. The breeze was warm and he could feel the humidity in the air. Above their heads, the clouds were moving to hide the moon. He pushed on, this time keeping his tone light. "So what happened then? What did he do to make you cry?"

Now her face was direct and yet so detached it was hard to know what she was thinking. "Why do you want to know?"

Jean rolled his eyes. "Because I _care_, Mikasa. You don't have to question every nice gesture like I have some hidden motive. Okay?" He groaned, throwing up his hands. "It's like I sit here and I genuinely want to help, and you just won't accept it." She was getting better about it, but the fact that she still had to ask left him discontent. "God, Mikasa. I just want to know what Jaeger did that has you sitting out here in the middle of the night crying."

Silence. She let it linger for near a full minute before speaking.

"He's leaving."

"Wait. What?" Jean's brow creased, his anger was sincere. "He's _leaving_. Why? Where the hell would he go that you can't go with him?" Somehow, without realizing, his instinctive priority of self interest had mutilated into this automatic alignment with whatever was best for _her_.

"I wasn't told. He has his orders and I'm not to be part of it." She let out a sharp exhale. "That bastard Levi is leaving with him in the morning."

Jean let his head fall backward, hitting lightly against the wall. It hurt, but he hardly flinched. "I'm sorry, Mikasa. What did Eren have to say about it?"

She huffed, fingers clenching. "Eren would not care if he was thrown into titan territory indefinitely. His desire to save humanity is nearly as strong as his bloodlust for titans. I suppose…I rank third in his list of concerns."

Third. _Third_? He was right there, sitting right next to her, putting her first. If she would just open her eyes…if she would just look at him and know that she could be the _only_ priority to him. He wanted to scream it at her. She could be important, she _was_ important. But not to Jaeger. Eren was never going to see past his own goals. Eren won't. _But I do._

He was silent. The intensity of his thoughts threatened to spill from his mouth and he didn't want that. He didn't want to overwhelm her with how passionately he adored her. It was not the time. She was upset. She didn't need him pulling her emotions further into turmoil.

He cleared his throat. "But to you, Eren is the top of the list." The instant acknowledgment in her eyes twisted like a knife in his chest. They were the same in this, both of them essentially ignored by the person who mattered most, and she had no idea. He could relate to her, comfort her, offer the advice he knew he would want to hear. And it would only push her further from him.

"Will you follow him anyway?" He was hesitant in asking, since a part of him feared her answer.

Mikasa turned away sharply at the suggestion.

"Look, I figured you had at least considered it." He added.

"Eren told me not to. He doesn't want me looking out for him. He thinks it makes him look weak. But he does need me or he will get himself killed." Tears began to flow from her eyes, but she pressed on without breaking. "But there's nothing I can do. He won't let me help him. He's so stubborn. So…so confident in his own ability. He doesn't see that he cannot live on force of will alone."

"Eh. Not so sure about that." Jean shrugged. He offered her his sleeve again but she just stared at it and did not take it. "Didn't he survive being eaten by a titan? I mean, I may have my problems with the guy, but if Jaeger's will can't save him, then he'd be dead already. He's got more drive than anyone I've ever met. He's stupid with it. And you really can't say it isn't a part of the reason he's still alive. Look, I'm the last person to want to give Jaeger any sort of praise, but in this, I think you're underestimating him."

She hadn't moved. The tears were dripping from her chin, coating her cheeks and nose and lips. He leaned carefully, scooting a bit toward her. He held up his hand, sheathed in his sleeve, and hesitated before touching her in case she wanted to tell him to stop. She didn't. So he soothed her cheeks clean, catching the corner of her eyes when they overflowed.

"Why…why are you so nice to me?" Her grey eyes were large and shaking. Was she pleading with him? Desperation shook her voice, but she wasn't pulling away. "Never mind. Because you _care_." She closed her eyes, but she still didn't tell him to stop.

"I guess it's also a bit selfish of me, too." He kept watch, catching any stray tear as it rolled down her cheek.

"Selfish?"

"Well, yeah. If I'm nice to you, it means I get to talk to you. Spend time with you. Ruin the sleeve of my shirt for you." She sucked in a breath, emitting a sound somewhere between a sob and laughter. "Hey, it's worth it. I, uh, don't mind. At all. I just…you know, want you to be happy and, well, if Eren is what makes you happy then…Look, I just mean that I don't want you to cry and honestly, if Eren doesn't see you as the top of all priorities then he's a bigger moron than I thought."

Her shoulder bumped his, the weight of her leaning into his side. A breeze blew over them and now he could smell rain in the air.

The play of confusion in her eyes held him captivated. He wanted to know what she was thinking. He'd rambled on like an idiot…but why had she suddenly gone quiet? Her eyes were searching his face and all he could offer was a small smile to calm her, but worry was creasing his forehead.

"Did I say something…?"

Her breathing was loud in the silence.

"Mikasa?"

At the sound of her name her eyes snapped toward his mouth.

_Whoa_.

Jean didn't move. He didn't speak again. The moment seemed so fragile that it would shatter at the slightest touch. Something in the midst of his rambling had shifted, the mood was tangible.

Her lips fell apart as she took in a breath and leaned.

He waited. Every indication was that Mikasa was going to try and kiss him. He waited like salvation hung on the promise of her lips. Her move, whether intended or instinct, seemed to shock her since she gasped. He could feel everything in the way the body grows hypersensitive in intimate situations. They were teenagers. A boy and a girl. And never had either one been more keenly aware of that fact.

The first drops of rain hit Jean's face, making him blink. He felt the weight of drops in his hair and then rolling down his cheeks. Mikasa had a drop beading on her nose. In seconds they were both wet. Not soaked, but wet enough for their hair to stick to their skin. Jean thought he looked like a drowned rat when his hair was wet. Mikasa's hair clumped and curled to tantalizing perfection. The water dripped over her lips and he had the fleeting whim of licking them dry. However backward that actually sounded.

It was Mikasa that turned away from him, standing. "We should go inside." She started walking without him, running for the castle. Jean followed her but she was gone when he stepped inside. He hardly had a chance to even attempt to follow her before someone was running into him, nearly knocking him to the ground.

"Aw, fuck." Tomika swiped at her wet bangs. "Why did you stop?"

Jean's mouth fell open. "_You_ ran into me."

"You going to follow her or what?"

Once again she had caught him by surprise. Tomika didn't spare him a glance as she squeezed the end of her ponytail dry, letting it drip and puddle on the floor. For a second, he didn't know how to answer her. What could she possibly know about it anyway? Then it clicked.

"You were watching us?" He didn't bother to hide his agitation. He could dish out attitude just as well as she could. He was just more tactful than her, which was really saying something.

She shrugged. "Overheard. What difference does it make? You've been eye sexing her for the past two weeks, it's disgusting. I was just thinking that if you got it out of your system we might all be spared the longing glances and lame ass flirting." With a causal flip, she threw her hair back in place behind her, but the stray pieces were still clinging to her forehead and cheeks. She was tall, taller than Jean, and lanky. Not an overall threatening presence, but her shifty eyes gave her the look of someone without limits. Someone who wouldn't hold back when it came down to it. For just a tiny second, he wondered if she had ever killed someone. A human. For whatever reason…Self defense. A message. Pleasure. That the question was even called into his head was chilling enough.

But Jean was not in a rational mood. Nor was he in the mood to keep the peace. His head was still spinning trying to piece together what had just happened with Mikasa. His patience with Tomika was crumbling faster than his want to keep the impression of civility.

"It's not any of your business." He turned around. "Get through tomorrow and we don't have to talk again. Trust me, I'm counting the seconds."

"You didn't deny it, though." She was quiet, but the accusation was there. He didn't know what he was being accused of. Liking Mikasa? "You didn't deny that you're out to get inside Mikasa's pants. Which I applaud. At least you're not a total liar."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" He restrained his hands, wanting more than anything to throw her backward. He was facing her again, trying to piece together what was happening. He wasn't out to get into anyone's pants. Even with Mikasa, this was not about conquest or even sex.

"Normally, I try not to judge." She swallowed, looking down. The crass, hard edge, to her eyes and face had faded. For once she looked her age. It was the contrast that made him realize that before she had carried years, they were etched into her eyes and the hard line of her mouth. Now she was just a girl, heartbroken and even, a bit, scared. "But I'm not going to keep my mouth shut. I'm going to tell her."

"Tell her what?" The spiraling direction of their exchange was turning his anger into genuine confusion. It was like they were engaging in two separate conversations. He was stalled by her transformation. What the actual hell was happening?

Tomika's eyes scrunched closed, her palm covering her forehead. "Why you're really so nice to her. I'm going to tell her why you…why you've got to act like you care about what she says. Or about her feelings. I'm going to warn her that—"

Jean held up his hands in an attempt to derail her growing accusations. "That's not it at all."

"Liar!"

Tears fell down her cheeks. She choked on a sob, pushing her fingertips into her eyes to fight the wetness on her cheeks. He stepped forward calmly, reaching for her but entirely unsure of what he needed to do.

"Tomika, calm down."

"Stop. Don't come near me." She stumbled backwards, nearly falling over. "Stop. I don't want you anywhere near me. I swear if you touch me, I'll break your arm."

Jean stopped, believing her. "Okay. I won't touch you." He swallowed, trying to think of what to say, but drawing a blank. He could see no path from the beginning of their conversation to the present. It did not make any sense.

"Tomika." He took another step, but lowered his hands to keep her from retreating. "You…you're accusing me of…" His throat closed, refusing to allow the words out. "I'm just saying, it's not like that. You're wrong. I don't think of Mikasa like that."

He flinched when her head snapped up, eyes narrow and piercing.

"I mean it. All those things you said…that's not even close to accurate."

"Then what is it?" She hissed, venom in her voice.

"What is…?" He cleared his throat. "Oh. I…"

"See you can't even think of anything to say."

"That's not true." He snapped, jaw clenching. Damnit, she didn't even give him a chance.

"Then what? You don't feel anything for her? I've just been blind this whole time—"

"I didn't say that."

"Damnit, Kirstein, if you're going to defend yourself fucking defend yourself."

"I'm…you're just wrong. About how I feel about her. It's not…" He shook his head, anger burning in his eyes. He didn't owe her anything. He didn't have to explain anything. Screw her. She could think what she wanted…

"Tell me I'm wrong, for real, or I am going to warn Mikasa."

"Warn her of _what_?" He was yelling. He wanted to scream louder, because she just did not understand.

"If I'm so wrong then say something. If it's not lust then what the fuck else could it be?" She was yelling, too, asserting her two inch height advantage.

_What else could it be? What else…why does that question sound so sad? What else could it be…_

"I'm in love with her." Jean said. She won. He was giving up. He couldn't focus on anything but that question repeating over and over.

"Bull shit."

"You wanted an answer." He said. "How I feel about Mikasa, is that I'm in love with her."

Tomika didn't respond, but she didn't believe him either. She wasn't convinced.

"I don't need to prove it to you." He sighed. "And I don't know what happened to make you so skeptical of me. I'm not going to ask you to tell me, either. You probably wouldn't even if I did. But the truth of it is I'm in love with Mikasa. It's not something I planned or something I can control. I tried, when she was obviously infatuated with…with this other guy, I tried not to love her. But it never changed." He took a step toward Tomika and she didn't try to back away. "There isn't anything I wouldn't do for her. You were wrong, Tomika. My feelings for Mikasa aren't that short sighted or that shallow. I want everything for her, and if that doesn't include me then I'm willing to accept that. I want that to include me, but if it doesn't…that's okay."

Tomika had stopped fighting her tears and let them run freely down her face. Her eyes were once again weighed down by time. She looked older, stretched and tired. For the first time he was curious about what could have happened to her.

Jean started to leave. He didn't know what else to say to her and she was no longer speaking. The dawn was starting to lighten the sky through the clouds, the rain now a drizzle. Jean was two steps from the mess hall door when he froze.

His eyes locked with Mikasa.

* * *

**A/N: This chapter was supposed to highlight a bit of Tomika's character. But she had a bit more drama than I anticipated and it took longer to deal with it. It's still not entirely handled by any means, but I wanted them to make a bit of progress. The whole thing with her hatred of Jean, her reaction to him being in love with Mikasa and not just wanting in her pants, that is all significant. (I'm sure some of you are drawing conclusions about her backstory. I'm not saying anything about it now, if it doesn't come up in the story I might make a Tumblr post about her later.) Anyway, hopefully I can get back to the action-y stuff next chapter. Or, at least, move on from this "building a stable" thing. I hope you liked it though. Thanks for reading and to everyone who favorites, reviews, follows, you guys are the reason I keep working on this. ^_^**


	7. Chapter 7

seven

_I'm in love with her._

_How I feel about Mikasa, is that I'm in love with her._

_But the truth of it is I'm in love with Mikasa._

Jean fixated on that moment, the words repeating on a loop to torture him. The following day their work had officially finished and all ties with the friends, mostly friends, he'd managed to make were severed and they were no longer obligated to spend time with him. Punishment or no, Jean didn't feel like he had actually learned any lesson except that he hoped never to cross paths with Wagner again. When the job was finished—as lopsided, shoddy, and pathetic as it was—Jean had tracked down Wagner and threw a hammer at the man's feet. It was the easiest way to say he was finished. He didn't say anything because he didn't want to regret anything.

_I'm in love with her._

"Damnit." His teeth were clenched as he spoke to the empty hallway. It was still morning, people were still eating breakfast, but Jean wasn't hungry. Over and over the words tumbled through his mind. Three times. Three fucking times he tossed around that condemning word. It just kept pouring out of him. He felt liberated saying it. The way it felt, it was so natural. It sounded right and it felt right and then he had seen her face.

His only regret was that she had heard him. At the time, he could read nothing in Mikasa's expression to understand what she was thinking. He wasn't sure he wanted to know.

"Kirstein." Wagner's voice followed him, the man sounded out of breath from following and Jean turned with his head low. _What now?_ "Come with me."

Jean followed. He didn't speak. He didn't lift his head. He simply followed while his thoughts tormented him with irrational questions. He'd accidently played out different versions of what Mikasa could possibly be thinking. Wagner's finger snapping in front of his face pulled him back to the present.

"Inside."

Jean looked at the door beside them and his breath caught. The commander's office was one of the few that could be identified by the door alone. There was no marker, no name plate, just a thick oak door with gold inlaid around the brass handle. Whatever Jean had done, there was no way it should warrant Commander Erwin's attention. No way. Jean looked at Wagner, his eyes wide with the worry he now felt in excess.

"Just go in." Wagner prompted and he patted Jean once on the shoulder before leaving.

Did he knock? He felt he should knock. Jean lifted his hand, clenching his knuckles to stay the trembling. With a deep breath in, he rapped twice quickly before holding the air in his lungs. In the second it took for a response, sweat had started to bead on his neck and forehead.

"Enter."

His breath released. He felt his stomach twist, but had no breakfast to throw up. His fingers found the handle and he turned it, hesitating before pushing forward into the room.

It was a large office, so much bigger than it needed to be. There was a desk and books on the many shelves, but so much more. Chairs and end tables. A fireplace. There was even a plant in each front corner that maybe was an attempt to give it a homier feel, but no amount of decoration could detract from the man behind the desk. He stood up when Jean entered and Jean, nearly forgetting himself, saluted respectfully.

Erwin nodded in acknowledgement. "Take a seat. Please."

That last thing he wanted to do was sit. But sit he did.

"I don't have a lot of time, so I'll get straight to it." Erwin grabbed a folder from his desk and began to read it over as he spoke. "I'm approving your temporary promotion as was requested by Lieutenant Lloyd Wagner. It's not exactly standard, but he has faith in you and I see no problem with those assigned to your team. It will remain at its current number and you will still report to all the standard authorities." Erwin looked over the top of the folder. "You look surprised."

Jean opened his mouth, but words failed him.

"I see. He still has not fully informed you of his intent." Erwin pinched the bridge of his nose. "That man and his roundabout games."

"His intent, sir?" Jean's throat was dry, but he managed to make sound that didn't betray how confused and utterly baffled he was just then.

"Wagner claims you have the potential to rise to a position of leadership. If I am judging by the look on your face, you don't share that notion?"

"I…I don't know. This is the first time I'm hearing of a promotion or leadership or any of it. Sir. Commander." Jean cringed. He was floundering.

"But you don't disagree? You believe that you're qualified for the position requested of you?"

"If I'm being completely honest, sir, I don't know." Jean felt useless, less than useless. He felt deflated of any confidence and he knew that he did not deserve any sort of advantage. Had he thought about command one day? Maybe. Considered. But he was still pretty new compared to the higher ups. Promotion should have been a long way down the road.

"It says here," Erwin pointed to a line on the page in front of him, "That you corralled a group of toss-away rebels into completing a task in an orderly fashion. You assumed all the responsibility for failures and earned the loyalty of your team in the process. You worked on your own to complete this task, after hours, to maintain the trust of your subordinates while keeping on assignment. I'm not saying you're ready to command an army, but these are all indicators of someone fit for leadership. Is that not how it happened?"

"Um, more or less…I guess that's what happened—"

Erwin crossed in front of his desk and tucked the folder under his arm. "I know that Wagner finds a man's reluctance and modesty as a virtue, but I find it tiresome and unnecessary. If you don't think you are qualified or capable, then I will toss this whole matter aside. If you are, then I have approved the decision and you have the promotion. I need your answer, now."

"I don't get to think about—"

"Time is always against us. I'm afraid I can't linger over what is already a rash incontinence set up by Wagner. Were we to follow normal protocol then you would have a day to decide, but that is not the case here. I'll need your answer before you leave this room or I will take your silence as refusal."

Jean's heart had been racing for most of their talk. His nerves spiking and dropping, his mind turning and spinning. He had so many things going on at one time that he had no idea what he should answer. He couldn't think. He couldn't concentrate. This was a big responsibility. He understood that and he wanted to give it the thought necessary. But…time was against him.

Erwin tapped a finger on the folder, staring down at him in stoic silence.

Jean needed to give him an answer.

"I accept, sir."

Jean wasn't sure if Erwin smiled, the commander's mouth had snapped back into place before he could be sure. "Very good. I'll let Wagner know and he can get off my back about it. You'll report to him for orders."

"Yes, sir."

"You're dismissed."

Jean saluted and turned around. This time, he was not afraid of opening the door; instead he couldn't open and shut it behind him fast enough. His back hit the wall as the heavy oak snapped into place behind him. He still wasn't sure what he had just agreed to. If it was the right decision or if it was the biggest mistake of his career. But he knew that he had to accept for two reasons.

First, for the face that he saw when Erwin told him he could be a good leader. Marco had believed the same thing and Jean didn't want to let him down by denying it. The second was for the friends he'd made. Even Tomika. For Mikasa and Amber and Croft and Sasha and Renford. He wasn't sure how they would feel taking orders from him full time, but they believed in him too. He may not believe in himself, not in his, but he would not make their faith unfounded. He would try. Maybe this was the right thing for him, maybe he _was_ qualified.

Or maybe he had just fucked himself over.

-oOo-

There was no time to process. Jean hadn't been out of Erwin's office for more than ten minutes before he found Wagner. The sight of the older officer left him conflicted. Wagner probably expected him to feel grateful. But Jean hadn't decided if any of this justified the means.

"We're moving out by this evening. Get your team together and ready to go by 1400." Wagner paused, perhaps attempting to read Jean's face since he lost the brisk dismissive tone. "You'll do fine."

"Yeah?" Jean spoke in a harsh whisper, looking over his shoulder as if he expected the commander to be lurking in the shadows. "I'm glad one of us thinks so. And by the way, thanks for the mind games. Glad I could indulge your sick experiment."

Wagner put his hand on Jean's shoulder and pulled him closer, his voice matching Jean's volume. "You can be bitter at me all you want, I don't care. But you've got a responsibility now and I'm interested to see what you do with it."

"I'll do what I have to."

"I've no doubt." If there was any sort of actual affection in the old man's blue eyes, Jean forced himself not to see it. Wagner pulled away, letting out a small sigh. "You've got your orders. I expect you to be on time."

"Where are we going?" Jean stopped him from leaving. Now that he was officially promoted, he decided to see what that afforded him. He was going to make a point of feeling out his new limits.

"Wall Maria. I'm not entirely sure on the plan myself. All I know is that Levi took a small group along with Eren Jaeger and we've been assigned to follow." Wagner left to see to his own preparations and Jean went straight to the mess hall.

Amber and Renford were there, still finishing their meal when he found them. Jean rushed through an explanation while he scanned the room for Mikasa. When he didn't see her, he began to feel uneasy. Logically, her absence from breakfast wasn't alarming, but his nerves were spiking anyway.

He looked for Mikasa in all the places she could reasonably be, then in all the places he was allowed to look for her. The only place left was her room. He wasn't allowed in the girl's hallway, but it wasn't exactly monitored either. It wasn't being caught by a superior that worried him, but by a girl who might misinterpret his intentions. He remembered which door was Mikasa's from the night they'd all drank together and was grateful that the hallway remained unoccupied.

Jean leaned in and knocked lightly. There was movement inside, he could hear it, but it stilled to a dead silence when he knocked.

"Mikasa?" He was taking a bit of a gamble that it was Mikasa and not her roommate. But he had looked everywhere else. This was the only place she could be. "Mikasa. It's me. Open up. It's important."

He pressed his ear to the door. She was intentionally moving quieter.

"Mikasa." He hit the door with his open palm, glancing up and down the hallway after the resounding bang. "Mikasa. I _will_ stand outside this door until you open it."

He listened again.

"Go away, Jean." He put his forehead against the door, knowing from her tone that he was right. He knew. He just knew. She was going to try and follow Eren. Whether Eren wanted it or not. Whether it was against her orders or not. She had to try. Jean knew that.

"I'm not going anywhere." He closed his eyes. "If you want to go after Eren…I won't stop you. But you've got to hear me out first." Seconds passed in silence. He heard nothing until the door was pulled open and he nearly fell into her.

Mikasa avoided looking at him, but he could see her eyes were bloodshot and puffy. She didn't let him in, but stood blocking the entrance with the door and her body.

"What is it?"

"I've been promoted."

Mikasa's lifted her head. "That is what you had to tell me?"

"Yes. I…no. Not entirely—"

"Congratulations." She sneered, once again avoiding his eyes. Then she began to shut the door and her face was hidden. She added quietly, "That's good news. I'm happy for you." For a second, Jean was about to let her shut him out, but he slapped his hand against the door to keep it open.

"That wasn't what I wanted to say." He repeated. "I wanted to say…I wanted to say that you've been assigned to my team. All of you have. And I'm supposed to be getting you all ready to leave. We're following wherever Levi went with Eren. That's what we've been assigned to do. If you're going to follow him, follow him with us."

She let her grip on the door go, stepping forward. "You don't want me on your team. I…I can't guarantee that I'd...I'm not letting Eren go."

"I know." He swallowed and his eyes traveled down her arm to her hand. He really wanted to reach out and hold it. So he did. Her fingers tensed, but she didn't stop him. He squeezed reassuringly. "Once we're out there, you can go where you want. You have no orders otherwise, and I'm the only one who'll know. Just let us get you as far as we can. We might be able to help. And if we can't, if you need to follow him to some place we can't follow, then go."

The chaos that tumbled throughout his head since leaving Erwin's office had made him forget. Until that moment, he forgot about the previous night.

_I'm in love with her._

He flushed, fighting his embarrassment because he couldn't run away now. He let go of her hand and took a step back. "I…uh, I just wanted to catch you before you left. If you want to go alone, I get it. But…" He tugged on his collar and cleared his throat. "But the smartest thing to do would be to stay with a group. So…"

He kept meeting her eyes and looking away like a coward. She needed to say something. If she didn't, he'd keep talking. Fuck, he did not want to keep talking. But he nearly felt compelled to fill the silence.

"Okay."

"What?" He had been holding his breath, retreating into his own thoughts of keeping his mouth shut.

"I said okay." She wasn't smiling, but her eyes no longer looked so frantic. They were even and steady, if a bit red. "You're sure that I can leave if I need to?"

"Yeah. I don't want to make you choose." He scratched at his cheek. Nervous and fidgeting all over again. He had so much to do that day. He did not have time to stand in Mikasa's doorway all afternoon.

"Anyway. I've got to find Croft and Sahsa and stuff. You're already packed so…maybe you can meet Amber and Renford about getting the gear and other supplies loaded up."

"Okay."

"Good. Okay. Bye." He turned on his heel and walked as fast as he could without running.

-oOo-

There's wasn't the only team being deployed. Wagner commanded four smaller units, but Jean was the youngest to be in charge of one. They rode steady. The trip to the perimeter of Wall Rose took a day. Once they reached the town with the gate, they were placed into rooms at one of the inns until the next morning. They had to travel a good distance tomorrow and it was better to stay in relative safety and comfort for as long as they could.

The inn's dining room was filled to capacity. There were a lot of soldiers heading out tomorrow and most of that number wanted to indulge in the hot food, flowing drinks, and warm atmosphere. Even the officers settled back and enjoyed the night. It might well be their last. Going outside the walls was always going to be a gamble.

Team Kirstein had gathered outside in the rear courtyard. Well, Jean had sat outside and the rest had followed him. There wasn't a cozy fireplace like in the dining room, but they had torches set up along rows of benches to see by and the air was still holding it's warmth from the day. They didn't talk much. Even though they were permitted to drink this time, none of them did.

"I've never actually killed a titan before." Amber said. She was sitting on Renford's lap, showing a familiarity that seemed a bit rushed considering he had shown her nothing but casual disinterest a week ago. It was impossible to tell by Renford's face that he enjoyed Amber's presence, but it was obvious in the way he moved with her. She was an animated force and he adjusted to whatever she wanted, no questions, no complaints. If she sat on his lap, he moved so that he was at least comfortable while she was there. If she wanted to suddenly reach across the table for something, he caught the glass that she would have knocked over or moved the plate of food that would have smeared her jacket. He didn't ever look as if he was happy. But no one there really doubted it.

"I've only killed two." Croft added.

"Still more than me." Amber said. Jean tried to recall how many he had killed. He hadn't ever thought to keep track before. His eyes shifted to Mikasa, sitting alone on her own bench, and he wondered what her number was.

"It's not a numbers game." Tomika said, drawing the look of everyone. The fact that she was even sitting outside was reason enough to make them suspicious. She rolled her eyes and rested her chin on the table. "It's not. You turn this into a contest and suddenly you're taking unnecessary risks. Just keep yourself alive. That's all we can hope for."

"You're such a ray of sunshine." Sasha pursed her lips, sending Tomika a sideways glare.

"I'm a realist." Tomika squared her shoulders.

"You're a moody buzzkill." Sasha retorted.

"What was that nickname again? Potato girl?"

Sasha flushed but didn't respond.

"I'm going to bed." Tomika pushed out the chair she had borrowed from inside and left it in the middle of the walkway. She didn't offer any further goodnight. Jean hadn't decided if he was sympathetic to her or if he was just curious. That night when she had screamed at him about his feelings for Mikasa, he could sense that it was about more than her opinion of his intentions. Something made her explode at the thought of him taking advantage of Mikasa. He reasoned that it was Mikasa specifically that had been the trigger. She hadn't said a word about Amber and Renford. The way she talked about relationships in context to anyone else didn't bother her. But Jean liking Mikasa was cause for war. What it meant, he had no idea. Maybe he was trying to read into it so he had a reason not to strangle her.

After Tomika left, they were quiet again. Sasha fell asleep with her head on the table after an hour. Croft had also turned in, but he made it to his room. Amber and Renford were making the most awkward noises from their seat tucked into the shadows and oblivious to anyone else being there. Jean didn't know how much longer he could sit there and listen to it. The only reason he had stayed as long as he had was because Mikasa was still awake.

They seemed to be sitting far apart with their group so depleted in number. They weren't talking, but both of them occasionally glanced toward the obnoxious couple before looking away again. The sound from inside had dwindled to silence, most had gone to bed by then. Jean didn't have anything to say and he would need sleep too.

"I'm heading in." He stopped behind Sasha and shook his head. "Sasha?"

She sucked in air through her nose, snorting but remained sleeping. Jean tapped her shoulder.

"Sasha. Wake up." He shook her with more force and she shifted positions, still snoring lightly. "Sasha. Come on. Wake up. It's time for—" Her hand lashed out and caught him firmly in the jaw, sending him spinning sideways. Her eyes hadn't opened and he was put off from further attempts at waking her. Instead he slipped off his jacket and covered her as best he could. "Springer should be the one dealing with this." He grumbled, rubbing his jaw.

He nodded a quick goodnight to Mikasa and started inside. The dining room was empty, the crackle of the fire breaking the silence. Jean had to maneuver through chairs and tables, all of them pushed around to accommodate whatever formation the half drunk soldiers had wanted. He straightened a few of them out as he walked, clearing a path behind him.

"Jean."

Mikasa called him and he turned around to answer. "Yeah?"

She followed his path, stopping when she was in speaking distance. He waited, but she didn't say anything.

"Everything okay?"

"Yes." She began to fidget, twirling the ring on her finger. His heart leapt into his throat. She normally played with the end of her scarf, though he didn't want to read into it. He'd drive himself crazy if he did.

"Did you…need to ask me something?" He prompted.

"Mm, no. Not really." She took a deep breath in and dropped her hands. "I wanted to thank you."

"Thank me? For what?"

She smiled. It was faint, but it was there. "You don't make sense."

"You're…welcome?"

Her smile deepened a fraction, her head dipping low to try and bury the gesture under her scarf. "I just…I wanted to thank you for stopping me this morning. For all of it."

"It's no problem."

She licked her lips and he couldn't help it, his eyes followed the trail of her tongue.

"Anyway. That's it." She said. Neither of them made the move to leave. It wasn't exactly comfortable, standing in the middle of the empty room, but it didn't feel right to turn around.

"Can I ask you something?" Jean said.

Mikasa pushed a piece of hair behind her ear. "What?"

She let her hand fall, swinging it innocently at her side.

"Why do you still wear it?"

She didn't ask him to clarify.

"It's not…you don't have to tell me. I was just curious." He closed his eyes then pushed forward, taking a firm step closer. "Because I know what it meant to me to give it to you. And I want to know what it means…to _you_."

She opened her mouth but he couldn't stand to hear her answer.

"Sorry. You don't have to tell me. I'm sure you've just forgotten it was there or…anyway, I shouldn't have asked." Scared. He was so scared of her answer.

"For the same reason I wear this." She touched the red cloth securely wrapped around her neck.

What? What did that mean? He had no idea why she wore the scarf, except that it had something to do with Eren.

"The person who gave me this…" Jean had to question if she was purposefully avoiding the name for his sake. "…They are very special to me. I would not be here without them."

He could do nothing but stare at her. There was nothing he could say. Mikasa was telling him how she felt, however indirectly. Though he should have been nervous, feel his heart start to race, he was still. He was waiting, for what he didn't know, but he waited anyway.

"When you gave me this, you said we needed to keep fighting. You had no way to know, but that is what Eren said to me the day he gave me this scarf. In the moment, I believed it was that reminder of Eren that had helped me and nothing to do with you. But that isn't true." She lifted her hand, spinning the ring around her finger.

The fireplace was the only light in the room. The glow of flames either highlighting in an orange glow or casting dark shadows that flickered with the flames. It was warm. They were in the middle of a highly trafficked room without a fuck to give about who could potentially walk in. He would stand there as long as she did, until they were forced to ride outside the walls the following morning.

"Do you really love me?"

Jean let out a breath through his nose, eyes falling. "Yes."

"I can't say that I love you back." She said, but she sounded sorry which might have been the worse part.

"I don't really expect you to."

"But I care." She took another step, fingers reaching up to trace the buttons on his coat. Her head lifted, catching his gaze and pinning him in place. "It's different than how I feel about Eren."

She said _his_ name but Jean didn't care.

Running her tongue once again over her lips, she pushed her head up until her mouth bumped against him. It was hardly a kiss, though their lips had met. It was too fast and too clean. Their eyes had been open; Mikasa's gaze consistent to her standard expression and Jean's growing with his shock.

He did not breathe. She did not pull away. Instead she was trying again, adding a bit of an angle and the barest hint of pressure. She stopped. He could sense her hands sliding up his coat and pull lightly on his collar.

Again she inclined her head and kissed him. They were staring at each other, which didn't seem right, but he couldn't move, not even to close his eyes, not even to kiss her back. It felt like she was experimenting, testing the same motion over and over. Using him. Her fingers dragged lightly to the back of his neck and the faintest sound hummed in her throat.

He moved. He caught her by the shoulders, stalling her. She could practice on him all night if she wanted, but he needed it to feel real just once. Inclining his head sideways seemed right. Closing his eyes felt natural. Parting his lips, pressing firmly over hers, and drawing his mouth closed felt good. He held on, inhaling through his nose and pulling her closer, following instinct and in awe that she was letting him. They fell apart with a soft satisfying sound, noses brushing.

It only took an instant for everything to change. There was not another word shared between them that night, but they knew. Walking to their rooms together, the space that existed between their shoulders was tangible. When they stopped in the hallway, needing to go in different directions, they couldn't bring themselves to continue.

They were irrevocably altered.

They knew, understood as blatant fact, that things had changed.

Jean glanced over his shoulder where his room was waiting. She followed his eyes and nodded, agreeing.

His fingers brushed her hand, alighting his senses. She latched onto his wrist and tried to move in one motion, but kissing was not as graceful as fighting. She missed, catching the corner of his mouth.

They were sloppy, awkwardly moving their mouths together as if trying to win. They had no control over their volume, or the sounds they made, or how wet their mouths were getting. He caught her head with both hands, fingers pushing back her hair to keep it from getting tangled between them. Mikasa pulled and stretched his collar, her body bumping against him, moving them backward and knocking into a chair. Jean's foot caught and he teetered sideways. Mikasa used his momentum to throw him upright and against the wall.

She had him pinned beneath her hands, panting. She had lost control. They could have been seen. They could have woken someone up. Amber or Renford could be heading up the stairs any minute. She released him and stepped away.

There was no going back. They knew what it felt like now.

In the morning they would ride out beyond the wall. Their lives would be in constant danger. And they would have to find a way to forget.

* * *

**A/N: Another happy chapter before the fighting starts. Enjoy it. Please forgive the sort of vague plot, I feel like the focus is the characters so I've been leaving the plot pretty open ended. And the promotion thing with the ranks...I have no actual idea how SNK's ranking system works. (Levi is the only one with a mentioned rank, right? "Commander" isn't Erwin's rank. It's his title. Like Levi's title is Captain, but his rank is Lance Corporal.) So anyway, I tried to leave that stuff out as much as possible, because fuck if I know how that works. **

**Thanks for reading. ^_^  
**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: This chapter was supposed to be longer, but since I couldn't finish on Sunday and I probably won't have one this Sunday, I wanted to get it out. **

eight

The dawn sunlight filtered through the curtains. He couldn't lay there forever; though it was the most awake he had ever felt after a night with no sleep.

In a half hour they would be riding out. Jean tried to eat breakfast, but even the idea of food was repulsive. The rest of his team were poking at their plates, pushing the food around. It was the same with each downcast face in the dining hall. Every soldier in that dining room had enough experience to expect the worse, but not enough to be used to it.

Even Sasha couldn't manage more than her first helping. She seemed to be eating more out of habit than actual need. Her eyes were unfocused with each slow bite. Jean tried not to feel responsible for their mood, but as unreasonable as it was, he felt it pulling him down. The only face he didn't see was Mikasa's.

He had looked for her, glancing at the stairs whenever movement caught his eye, but she hadn't come down yet. It wasn't like her to be late. If she was avoiding him…he didn't exactly blame her. When this mission was over, when they were safely back inside the walls, then they could talk. For now, he needed to think about anything else. Mikasa had been a distraction when she'd hardly spoke to him. Now…now he was thinking about her again and had lost the last few minutes to stray memories of firelight and warmth, the exact details of Mikasa that he had never truly believed he'd ever learn.

"I hate the waiting." Amber said suddenly. She caught the attention of everyone at their table, since no one else had the will to break the silence. She was sitting to Jean's immediate right, always hovering near him and yet she was physically enveloped in Renford. The past month there had been color in her cheeks and a spark in her brown eyes, mirth had always danced near the surface of her features. That was fading fast to a drained stoicism that he remembered from first meeting her. He understood; it was hard to smile on mornings like that one. Jean remembered when he was in training, and before that when he lived with his family, he had smiled a lot back then.

"Waiting is the worst." She repeated and she fished for a deck of cards in her pocket, removing the band so she could shuffle them. "It's hard to think about how I was before training, before my first time…outside. I was a completely different person. I don't know what made me think this was a good career move…" She cleared her throat, shuffling shuffling shuffling.

"Tell me about it." Tomika agreed and took a long sip from her still steaming tea. "I mean, I know why I signed up, but looking back it doesn't seem like that good a reason."

"Why did you?" She looked up when Jean asked, meeting his eyes before shying away.

"Hardly matters now, does it?" She spat, the contempt still laced in her words, though it seemed forced. Like her spirit wasn't in it anymore.

"What about you?" Amber pushed her finger into Jean's shoulder, her body leaning sideways into Renford's, her hands still constantly manipulating the cards under the table. "Why did you sign up for all this?"

The question was asked innocently enough, but Mikasa found that moment to sit in the empty chair across from him. She already knew his answer. He hadn't exactly been shy about letting everyone know why he was there that first day of training. That Jean, the one that had so arrogantly boasted about joining the Military Police, would kick his ass right now. He had deviated so far from the plan. Amber had been right about one thing, they were different people now.

He managed a small smile with the memory. "I was going to join the Military Police." Mikasa was looking at him, the unasked question wavering between only the two of them, their moment, their silent conversation. Before, she hadn't cared one way or the other about his decisions. Now she was curious. She still didn't know the reason he was sitting across from her, about to risk his life on another mission for the Survey Corps, when his plan had been to sit comfortably behind Wall Sina.

"Wow…" Amber chuckled lightly, "That's a bit…arrogant of you. Especially since you didn't make it into the top ten."

Jean hadn't been able to look away from Mikasa. Neither of them had managed a completely straight face at Amber's misconception. Their private joke was interrupted by Sasha.

"He did, though." She said. "He was in the top ten."

Tomika nearly spit out her drink. "You were in the top ten? What the fuck are you doing here?"

"This is where I wanted to be." He said, his tone more clipped than he meant to sound.

"You mean you chose, you _chose_, _not_ to join the military police." Tomika's dark eyes flashed, her posture suddenly stiff instead of slouched over the table.

"So what?" Amber snapped. "Sure it's a bit…abnormal," she smiled to indicate that she was sympathetic but just as confused.

"So was I." Mikasa said.

"And me." Sasha chimed.

The rest were silent.

"It doesn't matter." Jean stood up, hands on the table. They were starting to draw attention from the rest of the room. "How or why we're here _doesn't matter_. What we do now that we are here, _that's_ what matters. There is more at stake than just ourselves. I can't say…I don't know if…" His knuckles were white, his fingers scratching into the table's surface, denting the wood. "Look. Whatever sort of future exists out there, we're the ones who'll create it. Whether it ends up…good or bad. No one can say, for sure, what will happen. But it's up to us either way. We're the ones out there. We're the ones doing _something_. Our reasons don't make a damn bit of difference."

He leaned back, looking around for the first time to see the eyes on him. Not just at his table, but at every table. His hands shook, adrenaline already revving him up and he hadn't even left the breakfast table.

Amber's hand squeezed his shoulder gently, pulling him back to their conversation. She was smiling.

The rest of them, one by one stood beside him. Tomika was the last one to stand, hesitating and holding his gaze before pride had her scrunching her nose and pursing her lips sourly. They looked like a unit. They looked like a team. They looked like a group that could actually work together and live to tell about it.

"Saddle up. We're heading out."

-oOo-

They rode on and off throughout the day, stopping only twice to water the horses. They rode in a smaller formation, designed for their lesser numbers. They were still divided as units, covering the most ground to keep their vision for titans spread out. Jean was placed toward the middle on the right side, and so far, only the left had seen any titans. Wagner was out in front with his special unit steering them to the destination he still hadn't named. They were following Eren and Levi, that's all anyone knew.

It was impossible to say if their fortune would hold out, but it was well past the afternoon and there was only so much time left before the sun would vanished completely. There hadn't been much time for talking; they had been riding at a gallop for sprints, as long as their horses could last without exhausting. The signal flare through the ranks telling them to slow went up again just as Wall Maria was coming into view.

"Are we going that far in one day?" While their horses started to walk, conversation was manageable. Sasha spoke from the back, her voice carrying in the still air.

"I don't know." Jean replied, but he was preoccupied. He was unsettled, put off by the lack of titan activity. It was just too quiet. Mikasa's voice was the first thing to call his attention away from his concerns.

"We're going to Shiganshina."

Jean hadn't meant to be riding next to her, closer than he was to anyone else, and when he noticed he drew his horse away slightly. "How do you know?"

Mikasa's face wasn't quite unreadable, her eyes were wider and it was hard to say if she was scared or angry. "I lived here." She touched the edge of her scarf, pinching it and drawing it up to her lips. "Eren. Eren said he needed to come back here."

"Why? What could he need…what could be so important that he'd risk coming back _here_?" Amber said.

Mikasa turned her head, looking at Amber directly. "I'm not entirely sure. His father told him he needed to find something important."

"And this is important enough to risk all of us being out here?"

"Apparently." Mikasa said. The walls were growing bigger, though they were still far away.

They only had a few more minutes of quiet, where the sound of hooves wasn't the only thing they could hear, before they were called to pick up the pace. The last sprint before reaching the city, or what remained of it. Jean's attention was still focused on the uneasy feeling that it was entirely too quiet, but he kept his eye on Mikasa as well. She was always so careful, but the subtle cracks in her calm were still there. He didn't intend to worry about her, but he justified it as a necessary concern for a valuable member of this team.

They tied up the horses outside the city. Traveling would be easier on rooftops, with their gear, than it would be on horseback. Besides, titans didn't bother the horses unless a human was riding one. The walls that had once kept the titans out made it impossible to know what waited in the city. On the ground, they couldn't see, but they could scale the wall in seconds.

Nearly one hundred tether lines hit the wall, hauling the soldiers to the top. As Jean's boots touched down, skidding and kicking up a bit of dust, he looked out over the buildings and familiar architecture that he'd never seen and his jaw fell open.

The silence that followed the last pair of scuffling boots and maneuver gear gas release was a presence as much as their fear. The structure of the city was intact, the buildings were still standing and the integrity of its layout remained. But every street, every opening, was filled with titans. Some of them were stuck on the roofs with no humans to motivate them down. Others were wandering, meandering through the streets as if they had entered a maze and were still looking for their cheese. When the wall had broken, titans had poured in from their territory and now they were stuck.

Activity was gathered in a small area near the distant side of the wall, far from their current position. The titans close to that area were converging and, now that his wits had gathered, Jean could see the figures maneuvering around them. More closed in as the presence of prey enticed them. The titans nearest Jean's position, high up on the wall, were only just becoming aware that sport might be in ready supply.

Wagner was not the highest ranking in their total unit, but he was the closest to Jean and that is who he could hear. Wagner nearly had the strength to disguise his fear, but Jean could tell. The numbers in front of them, no one had ever seen that many titans so tightly compacted. Going down there would be as close to suicide as any mission they'd ever had. Throwing soldiers at the problem hoping for some to make it through wasn't going to work. They needed precision.

Jean was listening, but he was also thinking. Their advantage was the outer wall. None of the titans were tall enough to reach them. It was their only position of safety. They needed to keep as many up that wall as they could. Sending a small unit to lure some away from the troops already on the ground would help, though probably not much. What remained could move closer to Levi's squad and try and get a better angle on the situation. It was impossible to say what was happening from so far away.

What exactly was their mission here? Retrieval? There were no civilians to save. There was no hole to cover up, no reason for anyone to stay in titan reach. If Levi was keeping his men down there, there had to be a valid reason.

Wagner had a similar idea. He sent a small group out as a lure, which only worked to gather about ten or twenty titans' attention. The rest of there unit were running along the top of the wall. There was no room for teams to separate; they were just a mess of bodies scrambling in a race around the perimeter. Some hoping they weren't too late to help. Others hoping they were.

Jean kept his eyes out for his team, even if there was no exact plan yet, he felt better keeping them all in his sights. Sasha. Croft. Tomika. He bumped shoulders with someone else, momentarily unsettling his bearings. Amber. Renford. He looked behind him, then forward, then sideways. Where was she?

The sick, lurching in his chest made him gasp. His first thought was that she had left. His eyes scanned over the buildings, dodging over everything that moved hoping that he would not see a lone figure in a red scarf. He had promised that she could go on her own and he meant it. But that didn't mean he had to like it.

When he still couldn't find her, he did another quick count. Croft-Amber-Tomika-Renford-Sasha…

His teeth clenched. _Where the fuck did she go?_

They were closer to their target now. It was easier to see what was happening. It was chaos, but it was a chaos that Jean could understand. He couldn't pick out individuals, but it was clear enough that whatever the initial plan had been, it meant shit now.

The formations of the squad currently engaged were divided, titans sectioning their ranks off and keeping them on the constant defensive. They were running and hacking. Most of them weren't even fighting anymore; they were just trying to get away and in the confusion had driven themselves further from the perimeter wall that might offer them safety. There were a few noticeable individuals that were keeping on foot, their gear either malfunctioning or their gas too depleted to work. They weren't lasting long.

The only evident objective was at the epicenter, the very core of the battle was clear of titans. It was a small radius, but it was obvious that the overall intent was to protect the center. That, more than likely, was where Eren was.

Wagner sent out two teams to provide relief. They were dispatched immediately. Jean watched the first wave of them swatted into pieces, scattered like ants and sent sprawling in all directions. That first line of soldiers was dead before they had even started.

Two more teams were sent out to flank. This worked better than their straight on attack, but they were still fighting a losing battle. The center needed to remain clear. That was their only objective. Keep the center clear. There was no way to kill every titan in that city, but if they could defend that center long enough, then it would be a victory of sorts.

Jean was called up next, his team forming behind him as their orders were relayed. They were given backpacks with gas canisters for refueling, five in each bag. There was an extra pack on the ground after each of them had secured the front and waist straps in place. Mikasa was still unaccounted for.

"She'll be fine." Amber said, her voice just a faint whisper over the roar of the screams and shattering rumble from the battle. The wind was still clean from their height, fresh and warm. He breathed it in.

"We'll be splitting into groups of two." He ordered, looking at each of them. "Amber and Renford. Croft and Tomika." He swallowed, forcing himself to focus. "Sasha and me." It wasn't a betrayal. Her intentions had always been crystal clear. "We're spreading out. Prioritize those running on empty. We don't have much so when your packs are empty ditch them." Eren was in danger. He knew not to expect anything. Feeling disappointed wasn't fair. "Then I want you to help as much as you can, but move towards the perimeter wall. Never lose your bearings and keep your partner close. The wall is your focal point. Things can get crazy, you'll be scared, so keep the wall in sight. You don't want to run further into their territory."

He gave them a nod of dismissal and they jumped off the wall and into hell.

* * *

**A/N: Again, I'm only going by the anime for information. I'm trying to keep the plot vague enough to work, but still clear enough to be interesting. I wasn't wanting to end it here. (Not sure about the last line. It gave me pause, but I think I like it.) But if I kept writing I wouldn't have been able to post it until next week. So I wanted to get something out now and this seemed like a good chapter break to me. **

**Sorry for inaccuracies? My edit of this was super rushed so I'm really sorry for mistakes. I also struggle with the more action oriented stuff, this is my first real action-y type story. (Lol, and it's mostly angst). I'm also pretty terrible with battle/fighting and tactics and stuff. Their plan seemed pretty reasonable to me, but I could be way off. Don't hold it against me.  
**

**Hope you enjoyed and thanks for reading! ^_^**


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